


A Riddle for a Bat

by lfthinkerwrites



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, But he still manages to get on everyone's nerves, Canon-Typical Violence, Edward was never the Riddler, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 56,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfthinkerwrites/pseuds/lfthinkerwrites
Summary: It's been ten years since Bruce put on the cape and cowl. He thought he had brought some sense of order to Gotham City and he had.He had, until Edward Nigma, Private Investigator arrived and changed the game completely.





	1. E. Nigma, Private Detective

**Author's Note:**

> And this is the second AU I said I was working on. This draws a lot on the setting and characterizations of the Animated series, but also has a few influences from the comics and Arkhamverse as well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at a party, Bruce Wayne makes the acquaintance of Edward Nigma, Gotham's premiere new Private Investigator.

 

The entrance to the Batcave opened wide to accommodate the return of the Batmobile from, by Bruce's standards at least, an uneventful night on patrol with Dick. Bruce drove the Batmobile along the narrow stone track down into the Batcave. Alfred was waiting for them as Bruce parked the car. Dick had unbuckled himself and hopped out of the car as soon as the engine had cooled.

"I must say, Sir, I'm a bit surprised to see you two back so early," Alfred said.

"You and me both Alfred," Dick answered, removing his mask. "Three hours on patrol and all we encountered were two muggings, a guy breaking into a Deli and some drunks in Gotham Central Park." He leaned down to remove his boots. "If I knew it was gonna be this slow, I would have brought over my Civics homework from the dorm!" Dick turned to look at Bruce as he exited the Batmobile. "It's been slow the last few nights too. Maybe crime's finally starting to go down."

Bruce said nothing as he removed his cape and cowl. He'd been at this long enough to know that when he ran into slow periods like this, that what was really happening was a calm before the storm. A pull back on street crime meant that something major was in the works. Bruce narrowed his eyes as he mentally reviewed the list of the players in the Gotham Underworld. Joker, Ivy, Harvey, and Crane were still locked up in Arkham. Cobblepot was still on trial. That left the heads of Organized crime in Gotham. Stromwell was out of the game as of last year and Falcone and Maroni had been engaged in an on and off turf war that had seen both sides lose significant amounts of territory and influence. A leadership void was beginning to form. A void that Rupert Thorne would no doubt take advantage of.  

"Bruce?"

Bruce folded his cape and looked at Dick. "It might be a lull, but it might not be. For now, we should keep an eye on any street chatter. If something's going to happen, we need to be in front of it."

Alfred stepped forward and dutifully took Bruce's folded cape. "In the meantime, it appears you'll actually be able to put in an appearance at Ms. Vreeland's party tonight. She was quite insistent."

Given the choice, Bruce would rather face off against the mob. He needed to keep up appearances though. "I can hardly wait."

* * *

Half an hour later, Bruce had showered and changed into a tuxedo. He walked into the expansive living room of Wayne Manor, adjusting his cufflinks. Dick had changed into his casual clothes and was sprawled on the plush leather sofa, flipping through channels on the TV. He finally settled on the news when he saw an image of Oswald Cobblepot's mugshot. "Wonder if the verdict's in yet."

_"...The Jury is still out on the trial of Oswald Cobblepot on charges of racketeering and bribery. Despite the amount of evidence presented by the prosecutor at trial, Cobblepot's lawyer claimed that since much of the evidence was obtained by Batman and not through the GCPD, it's veracity was in doubt.  It seems likely that Cobblepot's case will end in a mistrial. In other news tonight, yet another high profile case involving the Gotham elite has been cracked by Gotham's newest private detective, Edward Nigma-"_

Bruce looked up from his sleeves and began to watch the newscast with a new interest. "Dick, turn up the volume."

Dick picked up the remote from the coffee table and raised the volume. Summer Gleeson's broadcast continued,  _"Since he set up shop in Gotham six months ago, Nigma's made a name for himself solving peculiar cases that as he puts it, baffle the GCPD."_ A previous clip of Nigma was shown on the TV, taken from his last television appearance. He was a young man, younger than Bruce at least, with auburn hair and bright green eyes. His business suit was green too, with a purple tie. He wore a green bowler hat as well, probably to set himself apart from others in Gotham. The most striking thing about the man was the smug smirk on his face. It was ever present in the various appearances the man had made on Gotham TV in the past six months. Bruce had yet to meet the man but just seeing that smirk grated.  _"In this case, Nigma successfully recovered jewels stolen from the penthouse of noted socialite Veronica Vreeland. When asked about just how he cracked the case, Nigma was quoted as saying that 'a genius such as himself never gives away his secrets.'"_

"Oh brother," Dick scoffed. "He's never going to win an award for modesty. Still," Dick leaned back, stretching his arms out. "It might not be so bad having another crime fighter out there. Maybe he's part of the reason why it's been so quiet."

"From everything I've seen, Nigma's more interested in getting his face on TV than actually stopping crime," Bruce said shortly. "That's not someone we can rely on as an ally."

Dick shrugged and went back to watching the TV. "If you say so."

Behind Bruce, Alfred cleared his throat. "Begging your pardon sir, but we really should be going."

Bruce tore his eyes away from the screen and walked towards the foyer. "I'll be back in a few hours. Call me if anything comes up."

Dick gave him a little wave as he settled back against the sofa. "Have fun. Or at least try." 

* * *

"Bruce! Darling!"

Bruce stood patiently and plastered a smile to his face as Veronica stepped forward, kissing him on the cheek. "Hi, Ronnie." She took his arm and guided him into her opulent penthouse. The living room was filled to the brim with the creme de la creme of Gotham's high society, most of whom Bruce knew from his large social circle. None of them were dressed quite as ostentatiously as Veronica though. Bruce took note of her large diamond necklace and bracelet, as well as the sapphire ring on her right ring finger. "I take it you're happy to have your jewels back."

Veronica flaunted her hand. "I feel complete again! Actually, that's why I'm glad you could make it tonight. There's someone you just _have_ to meet."

Bruce smiled indulgently at his red-haired friend. "You're not going to try to set me up with another one of your friends, are you Ronnie?"

Veronica threw her head back and laughed. "Bruce, you've gone through just about everyone I know. No, he's more someone I have my eye on." _He?_ She gestured toward a large gathering of people in the center of the room. They seemed to Bruce to be gathered around something. Or someone. He raised an eyebrow. Veronica made her way through the crowd, almost dragging Bruce along. In the center, regaling Wallace Thornberg with some story, was a man dressed in a green suit. "Eddie dear, this is the friend I told you about, Bruce Wayne. Bruce this is-"

"Edward Nigma," Bruce said. Perhaps tonight would be more interesting than he thought. Nigma turned at the sound of his name and Bruce's eyes widened slightly. The green color of his suit was more vibrant in person than his television screen could ever quite convey and it accentuated the bright green of his eyes. It was striking, Bruce had to admit. He was striking. The corners of Nigma's mouth widened into that smug grin Bruce had come to loathe the sight of over the past six months and the spell was broken.

He gave Thornberg a pat on the shoulder and made his way past him towards Bruce and Veronica. He held out a purple-gloved hand. "Indeed I am. And you are?"

Bruce slowly took Nigma's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Bruce Wayne. A pleasure, I'm sure." Nigma seemed a bit surprised by the force of Bruce's grip, but he didn't make any attempt to pull away. Bruce took the opportunity to size him up. He was taller than one might expect, being about six feet tall. He was lanky as well, compared to Bruce's broader frame. He seemed to show no signs of being intimidated by either Bruce himself or the crowd he was in. On the contrary, he seemed to take being introduced to one of the wealthiest men in Gotham as being his proper due. Bruce pulled his hand away. "So," he said finally. "What brings a private detective to a Veronica Vreeland party?"

Before Nigma could answer, Veronica inserted herself back into the conversation. "I invited him of course," she said. "What better way to thank him for recovering my family jewels?"

Edward nodded. "It's true, I don't normally frequent social events like this, but when Ronnie begged me to come, I couldn't resist."

Veronica laughed, then snaked her arm around his elbow. "Come on Eddie, I have a few other people I'd like you to meet. See you in a bit, Bruce." She dragged Nigma off with her, the man's slightly stiff posture the only clue to how uncomfortable he was about the situation. As soon as Veronica stopped in front of some old socialite friends of hers he quickly recovered, delivering his pitch in an almost theatrical tone. He used his hands to gesture for emphasis. Even from across the room, Bruce could make out his words. He spoke with a loud cadence, similar to that of the hosts on those old time game shows he remembered watching when he was a child. Given his outfit, he honestly wouldn't be too out of place on those, Bruce thought. He also thought he could pick up a touch of a New England accent when Nigma spoke. So he wasn't from Gotham originally. Bruce walked towards the refreshment table and picked up a flute of champagne. He continued to watch as Veronica took Nigma on a tour of the room. He tried not to cringe as Veronica lay her head on Nigma's shoulder. This was a change from the usual European boy toy that usually caught her eye and hopefully, this infatuation would be just as brief. Nigma happened to look back towards him and caught his gaze. He smirked and gave him a wink before diving back into conversation with Veronica and her friends from college. Bruce narrowed his eyes. There was something he found unsettling about Nigma. 

Bruce watched as Nigma extricated himself from Veronica's grasp and make his way towards the refreshment table. He grabbed a flute of champagne himself before he looked up at Bruce. He scooted over so that he was standing right next to him. "Is this spot taken?"

There were three feet of empty space between Bruce's spot and where Nigma had picked up the glass. Clearly, he wanted to speak to him. "It is now," Bruce joked. 

Nigma smirked again and Bruce tried to ignore how smarmy it made the other man look. "I can't help but notice," he said, "That you've had your eye on me."

Bruce shrugged and took a sip from his glass. "No offense, but you're not exactly the kind of guy Ronnie usually brings to these parties."

"So I've heard," Nigma said before taking a sip. "To tell you the truth, I usually wouldn't be caught dead at one of these things, but Ms. Vreeland did pay my fee. And hor 'd oeuvres here beat take out any day of the week."

"Not to mention the networking opportunity I imagine."

Nigma raised his glass in Bruce's direction. "That too. I'll have to print off a new set of business cards." He took a sip and looked back at Bruce. "I imagine that you must have a number of questions for me."

Bruce did, actually. Who was he? Where had he come from? What was his game? "As a matter of fact, yes."

Nigma chuckled. "Ask away. Mind you, I may not answer them all."

"Well for starters, what's your real name?"

Nigma paused while he was lifting his glass up to his lips. "Come again?"

Bruce had scored a direct hit. "I mean, Edward Nigma? E. Nigma? That can't be your real name."

Nigma slowly lowered his glass and looked at Bruce with something that was almost respect. "Well done Mr. Wayne," he said. "You're the first person at this little soiree who's called me out on that." He gave a small bow. "Yes, I admit it. Nigma is something of a stage name if you will. My first name really is Edward though."

"Why?" Bruce asked. 

Nigma shrugged. "Everyone in this town needs a gimmick. Besides, I've always been fascinated by puzzles, conundrums and the like. In fact, I like to think of life as one great big riddle. One that I know all the answers to, of course."

"Of course," Bruce said, trying not to roll his eyes. "Is that why you wear green too? To stand out from the crowd?"

Nigma held a hand up to his chest in mock offense. "Green happens to be my favorite color. It stimulates inventiveness, don't you know." He lowered his voice and leaned in closer to Bruce. "I've also been told it brings out my eyes."

Was Nigma trying to get in his head or was he trying to flirt with him? Bruce pulled away, unsure what to think. "Anyway," he said after clearing his throat. 'What got you into being a private detective?"

Nigma frowned a bit, then settled back against the table. "Well, like I said, I enjoy solving puzzles. Investigative work is the natural career path for me."

"Why a private detective though? Wouldn't you get more interesting 'puzzles' if you worked for the GCPD?"

Nigma's face darkened and Bruce knew what he said had struck a nerve with the other man. "Let's just say I don't work well with authority," he muttered. Then his face resumed its almost jovial expression. "At any rate, I don't have trouble finding interesting cases. And to tell the truth," his face took on an almost dreamy expression. "Solving the puzzles is only half the reason I do what I do. What I really want, more than anything, is to meet _him_."

Bruce had a sinking feeling he knew who Nigma was talking about. "Who?"

"Who? Batman of course!" Nigma rubbed his chin. "I know for a fact that I'm one of, if not the cleverest men in Gotham. But this Batman, he's done more to clean up this city in a decade than the GCPD or the politicians have managed in over thirty years!" Nigma sighed. "How could I not want to test my intellectual mettle against a man like that?"

"Most people would be afraid to meet Batman."

Nigma scoffed. "Clearly Mr. Wayne, I'm not most people." A ringing sound came from the pocket of Nigma's suit coat. He pulled out a cellular phone and took a quick look at the number on the screen. "Ah. If you'll excuse me, I need to take this." Nigma walked off, disappearing into the hallway that led to the interior of the penthouse. Bruce waited a minute, then followed Nigma. He heard his voice coming out of the locked bathroom. "I told you I'm at...what? When? Where?" There was a pause before Bruce heard him say "Alright. I'll be there in about half an hour." Bruce heard the lock of the bathroom door click open and quickly hid in the doorway of the adjacent guest room. Nigma walked right by him on his way back out into the living room. Bruce followed him out in time to see him apologetically bowing to Veronica. "My apologies my dear, but something's come up. Thank you again for inviting him." Nigma straightened up and turned to see Bruce. He tipped his hat. "Mr. Wayne. A pleasure." Nigma left a disappointed Veronica behind. She huffed as Bruce approached her.

"Why do all the men in my life always have to say 'sorry, but something more important's come up?"

"I'm sure you'll see him again Veronica," Bruce said. He knew he himself would see Nigma again. "I'm sorry, but I still don't quite get the attraction."

Veronica twirled a lock of her red hair. "I know he seems like a bit much, but he does have a certain, cerebral charm about him. It's a nice change from the swine I've dated in the past. And he does have such pretty green eyes." She elbowed him a bit. "You seemed to be getting along with him pretty well at the refreshment table earlier."

Bruce wasn't sure he could call it that. What he'd determined was that Edward Nigma was hiding something. He wanted to know just what that something was.

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce and Veronica looked up to see Alfred standing at the door. "Pardon the interruption, but you have an urgent call from Wayne Manor."

Bruce looked apologetically at Veronica. "Sorry, Ronnie-"

Veronica waved him off. "Don't. Frankly, I'm amazed you stayed as long as you did. See you later, Bruce." She walked off to rejoin the party and Bruce walked out the door with Alfred.

"I saw that private investigator that the news shows were talking about was here. Did you meet him, Sir?"

"I did," Bruce answered.

"And?"

When the two got to the parked limousine, Bruce opened the rear passenger door and clambered in. "He's even more aggravating in person than he is on TV, but that's not important right now." He pressed the button on the car phone. "What's happening Dick?"

_"I just heard something on the police scanner a few minutes ago. There was an explosion at Maroni's old Italian restaurant in the Bowery. According to the scanner, most of Maroni's remaining lieutenants are dead."_

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "I'm on my way. Stay on the scanner and keep me updated." Bruce pulled out a bag from under his seat and removed an extra costume of his. As he pulled off his shirt, he paused. Nigma had received a call at the party and then left. Did he know about this? And if he did, how? Was he connected, somehow? He pulled off his shirt and put on his costume with heightened urgency. He knew there was something unsettling about Nigma. Time to find out what.

 

 

 


	2. Edward Nashton, GCPD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce arrives at the crime scene in the Bowery only to see Nigma make an appearance as well. When he meets with Gordon, he uncovers some details about Nigma's past that concern him.

The limousine was about four blocks away from the crime scene when Bruce directed Alfred to pull over into an alley. "Stay here," he said. He pulled his cowl on before he exited the car. "I'm going to go check out the crime scene. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Take your time," Alfred said drolly. "I'll be quite fine with the trash cans and the rats."

Bruce closed the door behind him and pulled his grappling hook from his belt and pointed it at the adjacent building. Within seconds he was airborne before he pulled himself up to the rooftop. He ran across the rooftops of the Bowery until the remains of the restaurant came into view. He stopped to survey the scene. For years, Sal Maroni and the Maroni crime family had operated out of the Bowery, using the Maroni family restaurant as a front for their activities. Despite the various arrests and the war with the Falcone crime family, the restaurant itself had stood for over twenty years.

Until tonight. Tonight, all that was left was a black, still smoldering wreck. The building front was completely gone, glass from the windows scattered about on the pavement. Two fire trucks were still here, putting out the last fires. Bruce's eyes narrowed as he saw the six white sheets laid out on the sidewalk. The bodies of the Maroni lieutenants. Uniformed police officers had arrived before Bruce had, setting up the crime scene perimeter and conducting interviews with witnesses. To the left, Bruce watched as an unmarked car pulled up to the scene. The car stopped across the street and Detective Harvey Bullock emerged from the driver's side. Renee Montoya exited the car from the passenger side and both detectives approached the uniformed officers. When he was certain no eyes were looking his way, Bruce fired his grappling hook and glided to the building on the restaurant's left side. He dropped down to a fire escape that was close enough to give him a vantage point, but enough in the shadows that he wouldn't be noticeable. He wanted to be able to hear what the detectives found on the scene before he investigated himself.

"Alright Morris, what have we got?" Bullock asked as he approached the corpses.

"These are-were the Maroni lieutenants detective," Officer Morris replied. "As far as we can figure, the six of them were here for dinner, when a witness said the restaurant exploded."

Bullock scratched the back of his head. "Great. That's one way to end a gang war. Where is this witness?"

Bruce could see Morris point behind him. "Grant's got in in the patrol car. He's a vagrant who was sleeping in the alleyway when he heard the explosion."

"Heard?" Montoya asked. "So he didn't actually see it?"

Morris shook his head. "No. Oh, and we could smell booze on him when we talked to him."

"Oh, that's just dandy Morris!" Bullock snapped. "Our one witness was drunk! Nothin' he says is gonna stand up in court!"

"Except he wasn't our only witness," Montoya mused. "The 911 dispatcher said that the person who called in the explosion was a woman."

"So?" Bullock asked Morris. "Did you guys talk to a woman?"

Morris shuffled his feet awkwardly. "No. When we got here, the bum was the only one we could find who would talk to us."

Even from the fire escape, Bruce could hear Bullock grumble. "Yeah, everyone else in the neighborhood's deaf dumb and blind."

"Keep canvassing the area anyway," Montoya added. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find another witness."

Bruce would like to find that witness too. He continued to watch as Morris went back to his patrol car to join his partner, while Bullock and Montoya spoke to the lead firefighter. "We're still putting out the last fire," he heard the man say. "We can tell you more about the precise cause when we go in."

"You mean other than a bomb going off? Great, just keep doing what you're doing." Bullock turned to Montoya. "So, what do you say we go rouse Falcone?"

Falcone was the obvious suspect, Bruce thought. He and Maroni had been fighting over the last scraps of territory in Gotham like a pair of starving wolves for the past few years. The lull in crime that he and Dick had been experiencing could easily be explained by Falcone gathering his forces together for a final strike at Maroni. Taking out his lieutenants would cripple any counterattack. Falcone himself had dropped out of sight a week ago. That would fit in with him plotting an attack.

A movement in the alleyway caught Bruce's attention. Below him, he could see a figure approaching the crime scene, carrying a cane. When the figure stepped into the light from the street lamps, Bruce could see that he was dressed in green. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Nigma.

The private detective walked up to Bullock and Montoya and greeted them with a sweeping bow. "Good evening detectives! A fine night for a bombing, wouldn't you say?"

Montoya's eyes widened at the man's theatricality. To Bruce, it looked like she wasn't sure whether to tell him off or to laugh. Bullock's face darkened almost immediately. "Oh, terrific. As if the Bat-Freak wasn't bad enough! What are you doing here Eddie? Run out of rich folks to sell yourself off to?"

Nigma chuckled a bit. "Nice to see your manners haven't improved since I saw you last Harv."

Bruce leaned forward a bit. Harv? Bullock and Nigma had met before? Montoya looked confused as well. "You know this guy Harvey?"

Bullock waved dismissively. "Yeah, unfortunately. This is GCPD business Eddie. Scram!"

Nigma held a hand to his chest. "Really Bullock. Is that any way to speak to the man who's about to do your job for you?"

Montoya looked back at Nigma with a raised eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Do you have any information about the bombing?"

"This bombing?" Nigma asked, gesturing to the ruins of the restaurant behind them. "No. But I do know that Falcone's not the one who ordered it."

Bullock's eyes narrowed. "Oh? And just how do you figure that? You and Falcone friends now or somethin'?"

Bruce could see Nigma's posture stiffen, much like it had at the party earlier that evening when Bruce had mentioned the GCPD. Nigma clearly had sore spots when it came to both the GCPD and the mob. Why? Who was he? Then, Nigma relaxed, shaking his head at the detectives. "Oh, ye of little faith and brains. Surely you know that Falcone is currently hospitalized at Gotham City General for chest pains?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. Falcone had been hospitalized? How did he not know that? How did Nigma know that? How did he know where he was? Bullock and Montoya's jaws dropped at Nigma's declaration, but Bullock quickly recovered. "So? He still could have given out the order from the hospital. Wouldn't be the first time."

Nigma clucked his tongue. "Oh, very true, but who would he have given the order to?" Edward checked his watch. "Any moment now, Commissioner Gordon will be calling you back to GCPD to inform you of the unfortunate demise of Falcone's senior-most lieutenant, ostensibly at the hands of a Maroni made man."

Bullock rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when Montoya's phone rang. "Hello? Yes, Commissioner-What!?" Montoya's face drained of color and she looked from Bullock to Nigma with wide eyes. "We'll be right there!" She hung up her phone. "Carlo Ricci's car was just blown up half an hour ago! We've got to get back to headquarters!"

Bullock's face turned from shock to anger as he rounded on Nigma. "You know somethin'."

Nigma smirked and the sight of it had never made Bruce angrier. "I know many things, Bullock. It's my trademark. You of all people should have remembered that."

"Yeah?" Bullock asked. He took a step forward and grabbed onto Nigma's suit jacket. "How about you tell us what you know at the station!?"

Nigma's face turned red and he wrenched himself out of Bullock's grasp. "Don't you dare touch me!" he hissed. He looked like he was about to bring up his cane and Bruce prepared to intervene. Montoya placed herself between the two men.

"Enough!" She looked at Nigma with a grave look. "Listen, Nigma, if you know something, come with us to GCPD."

Nigma's face softened somewhat. "I'm afraid, Detective...Montoya, isn't it? I'm afraid I've already told you all that I know."

"But how did you know about Ricci?"

He held a hand out. "A private detective never reveals his sources, my dear. When I find out more, and I will, I'll be in touch."

"Detective," Bullock snarled. "Detective my ass. You're just talkin' a big game, just like you always did. Leave the detective work to the actual cops and go back to having rich folks kiss your ass, Eddie. It's more your speed."

Nigma turned on the two of them, waving dismissively. "Goodbye Harvey. Pleasurable as always." Bullock looked like he wanted to say more to Nigma when Montoya tugged his arm. Still glowering, he followed her back to their car and sped off back towards GCPD. Nigma stood alone now, watching the firefighters begin to clear the building, now that the smoke was finally out. Bruce watched him as Nigma got as close as he dared, surveying the sight with a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, Nigma walked back towards the alley. In a minute's time, he was directly underneath the fire escape Bruce was perched on. Bruce pulled out a snare from his belt. A few minutes hanging upside down from the fire escape and Bruce could get the smug, self-aggrandizing man to talk. How did he know what he did? What was his connection to Bullock? Bruce had almost laid down the snare when the firefighters' shout caught his attention.

"Holy shit!"

"I've never seen it before! That's amazing!"

Bruce looked up and saw the Bat-signal, lit up against the night sky. He reluctantly out his snare away and instead pulled out his grappling hook. He fired it and flew up towards the rooftop. When he landed, he took one last look down in the alleyway and was almost surprised to see Nigma staring back up at him, his face full of wonder and surprise. Bruce glared down at the man, then took off towards GCPD. He'd deal with him later.

"Alfred," he spoke into the communicator he kept in his cowl. "I'm needed at GCPD. Go back to the manor and tell Dick to meet me with the Batmobile in Downtown in an hour."

_"I couldn't help but notice the signal, sir. I take it this is about the unfortunate incident at Maroni's restaurant?"_

"Worse I think. I'll check in later." He ended the communication and hurried towards GCPD.

* * *

 

Gordon was waiting alone on the rooftop when Bruce arrived. "Long night Jim?" he asked when he landed.

Commissioner Gordon looked exhausted. "You could say that." He lit a match and placed it in his pipe, beginning to smoke. "I think the Falcone and Maroni war is about to reach its conclusion."

"I saw the Maroni restaurant in the Bowery. I heard about the Ricci hit as well."

Gordon had worked with him long enough to not be too surprised. "Word travels fast in Gotham I see. Ricci was killed about an hour and a half ago, the same time we got the 911 call about the restaurant. So either Falcone and Maroni just happened to schedule near-simultaneous attacks on each other tonight-"

"Or a third player decided to attack them at once." Bruce had suspected as much when he heard about the Ricci hit. "And if that's the case, we know who was likely responsible."

Gordon sighed. "Rupert Thorne. If he did it, he's getting bolder. He usually just sits back and lets Falcone and Maroni duke it out and takes whatever's left over."

"But now with Falcone and Maroni's forces nearly depleted, he saw an opportunity. I've also heard Falcone's been hospitalized. He's not going to be able to come back from this easily if he does at all. Same with Maroni."

Now Gordon did look surprised. "How did you hear about Falcone being hospitalized. I only just found out when Falcone's lawyer called me twenty minutes ago to provide an alibi for the Maroni murders!"

"That's something I wanted to speak with you about tonight Jim." If Nigma did have some kind of past connection to GCPD, Gordon would know. "Edward Nigma was at the Maroni crime scene tonight. He was the one who told Bullock and Montoya about Falcone being hospitalized. He also knew about Ricci's hit before you called the detectives back in."

Bruce carefully watched as Gordon's face paled. "Edward was there?" He ruefully shook his head. "Somehow I figured it was only a matter of time until he came back to a real bonafide crime scene."

Bruce's hunch was proved correct. "You know him, Commissioner?"

Gordon took a long drag on his pipe before he exhaled. "Yes. Well, I knew him. It was a long time ago. He used to work for GCPD. Only, his name wasn't Nigma then. It was Nashton. Edward Nashton."

So Nigma had worked for GCPD once. It certainly explained how he'd conducted himself at the crime scene. "Who was he?"

"He worked in our cybercrime division, starting about seven years ago. You know the GCPD database? He was the one who streamlined it. He personally uploaded all of our hard data onto that server."

Bruce considered this. So the man had had access to GCPD files years ago. "He was good at his job then?"

Gordon let out a small chuckle. "No. He was, as he liked to remind us, brilliant. He was the fastest hacker GCPD's ever had. If you gave him an hour, he could access just about any information a person ever had on the internet." Gordon shook his head. "He was abrasive and arrogant as all get out, but the man could back it up. Cybercrime division had the biggest case closure rate when he was there. He used to complain about how the job wasn't challenging enough for him some days. And he had his good points too. I brought Barbara to work once and he let her hang out with him at his desk. He actually taught her how to hack." Gordon sighed. "What a damn shame."

Bruce's eyes narrowed under the cowl. "What happened to him?"

Gordon's gaze darkened. "Loeb happened. Edward was called into his office one day about five years ago about something. I never knew what. I only heard that there was some kind of fight and that Edward stormed out and cleaned out his desk. I never saw him again in person after that. After Loeb was arrested, I tried to call him to get him to come back to GCPD, but he'd changed his number. Now he's some private detective for hire. But wait: you said he was at the Maroni scene? How did he know about it?"

It appeared that Nigma-Nashton-had been someone Gordon had held in high regard once. That made what Bruce was about to say worse. "I think he's involved somehow, Jim."

Gordon's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Edward, being involved with the mob? He hated them when we worked together."

Nigma had had an adverse reaction when Bullock accused him of being in bed with Falcone. "That was five years ago Jim. You and I both know how much a man can change in that time."

The name Harvey Dent wasn't said, but it was very much on Bruce's mind and judging by the look on his face, Gordon's as well. "The Edward Nashton I knew never would go on the take. He always cared about the puzzles more than the money."

That fit with the man Bruce had met at the party earlier that evening, but Nigma had already demonstrated how well he could hide who he really was. "Maybe he works for one of the mob gangs, maybe he doesn't. Either way though, he has access to information that could prevent bloodshed. He needs to tell us what he knows."

Gordon nodded. "I'll bring him in. I was one of the only people in GCPD he was friendly with. He might talk to me."

Bruce remembered what Nigma had said at the party. _"What I really want, is to meet **him.** " _He recalled the expression on Nigma's face when he saw him that evening in costume. What the man really wanted was to meet Batman. Maybe it was time he got what he wanted. "I'll talk to him, Jim. Whatever he knows about the gang war, I'll find out." 


	3. The Dark Knight and the Private Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman and Edward Nigma become acquainted.

Dick was waiting a block away with the Batmobile as requested. He moved to the passenger seat when he saw Bruce approach from the rooftops. "I heard on the scanner about Ricci. How did your meeting with the Commissioner go?"

Bruce closed the door to the Batmobile and powered it on. "It was informative." Bruce hit the gas and the massive car made its way down Park Ave, back towards the outer edges of Downtown.

"So which boss are we hitting up first?" Dick asked, propping his legs up the dashboard much to Bruce's constant irritation. "Maroni or Falcone?"

"Neither," Bruce said. "I need to speak with Edward Nigma."

"The private eye? Why?"

"He showed up at the Maroni restaurant tonight. He knew about the hit on Ricci before the detectives on the scene did. He also knew that Falcone was hospitalized before they did. There's more: according to Gordon, Nigma used to work at GCPD's cybercrime division. He was the one who uploaded and streamlined the GCPD's internal database. I think he's been using his past expertise to assist his current activities."

Dick's jaw dropped. "No kidding? Nigma used to be a cop? So wait: how did he know about the Ricci hit? You think he's got mob connections?"

"I wouldn't bet against it," Bruce answered. "Even if he isn't, he knows more than a private investigator should know about the mob's activities. One way or another, he's going to tell me what he knows."

Dick leaned back against his seat. "So what do you want me to do while you're paying him a visit? Watch the car?"

"Stay on the scanner and let me know if there's any more activity involving the Maronis or the Falcones. I shouldn't be too long." 

* * *

 

Nigma's office was located in an old brownstone on the corner of Fifth and Fleet Street. For a man who so far had a strictly wealthy clientele, Nigma had chosen a rather run down part of town to operate out of. The street was nearly empty when Bruce and Dick arrived, save for a green car parked alongside the curb in front of the building. Nigma's car probably, given the man's penchant for all things green. Bruce parked the Batmobile right behind it and got out of the car. He looked up at the building to find it pitch dark, save for a light on the second floor. His eyes narrowed. Nigma's office. He pat the leftmost compartment on his belt, ensuring that he had Batarangs stored away. Nigma didn't seem all that physically imposing when Bruce had encountered him at the party all those hours ago, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Dick asked.

"I'll be fine," Bruce answered, pulling out his grappling hook. "Just keep your eyes and ears open." He fired his hook onto the fire escape on the second story and was propelled upward. He grabbed onto the railings of the fire escape and pulled himself up, taking care to make as little noise as possible. He stood in front of a window that looked into a lit office. In front of the window was a wooden desk with various papers and a coffee mug scattered about on it. Bruce could also make out framed newspapers alongside the office walls. What caught his attention though, was the figure who stood in front of the desk with his back to the window. Nigma.

The man had taken off his green jacket and hat and was standing in front of a whiteboard. Bruce watched as he took a picture out of an album he had placed on a chair next to him and tape it to the whiteboard. Bruce recognized it as a picture of Ricci. He then watched as Nigma took a red marker and draw a line between Ricci and another picture he had taped up of Falcone himself. As quickly and as quietly as he could, Bruce opened the window. Nigma didn't look behind him as Bruce crept into the office. Instead, he heard the man murmur to himself "...Carlo Ricci is killed by a car bomb at 11:30 pm. Less than five minutes later, the six most senior remaining lieutenants of the Maroni crime family are murdered, also by a bombing. The two largest crime families are, as of right now, in complete disarray. And who stands to benefit from this? Who steps in to fill the void the collapse of the Falcone and Maroni families will create?" Nigma posted a photo directly in the middle of the whiteboard, connecting it to the other photographs taped on with precise strokes of his red marker. "Rupert Thorne," Nigma seethed and Bruce was almost startled to hear the venom underlying those two words. "It won't be long now..."

Bruce decided that now was as good a time as any to announce himself. "Won't be long until what?"

Nigma dropped his pen and turned around so violently Bruce thought he'd give himself whiplash. Bruce could see that he had also taken his tie off and that the top button of his light green dress shirt was undone. His mouth fell open in a gasp and his striking green eyes widened to the size of saucers when he saw just who it was that had come into his office. "You! How-When-"

"Fire escape, seven minutes ago." Bruce stepped around the wooden desk and drew closer to Nigma. "For someone who sells himself as a genius private detective, you don't seem to pay that much attention to your surroundings."

Nigma's face flushed a bright pink and his eyes flashed for a moment, but he recovered quickly, letting a satisfied smile come to his face. "I should have known after I saw you in the Bowery tonight that you'd come by." He chuckled a bit and Bruce's eyes narrowed. Nigma seemed to be falling right back into his cocky persona. "I have to admit," Nigma continued, "I've been looking forward to finally meeting you. After all, how often do two minds such as ours happen to coexist, let alone meet? It's exhilarating, don't you think?"

"This isn't a social call Nigma," Bruce said gruffly. "I watched you at the Maroni crime scene tonight."

"Oh?" Nigma said. "Impressed?"

Bruce ignored Nigma's obvious attempt to talk himself up. "You knew about Ricci and Falcone's hospitalization before the police did. You have information about the crime families that a civilian shouldn't have." Bruce continued to advance on Nigma, who, to his credit, Bruce had to admit, stood his ground. "Would you care to explain how you came about that information?" He was in front of Nigma now, his face inches away from Nigma's own. Nigma's eyes widened a bit at his close proximity, but he continued to stand his ground. Nigma wet his lip before he answered.

"The same way you come about information about your various rogues, I'd imagine. I'm a detective. I know things. And if I don't know them, I have ways of finding them out."

It was clear to Bruce that Nigma was using what he'd learned from his time at GCPD as a base to build off of. He remembered the call Nigma had received at Veronica's party. "Do you have sources in the crime families?"

"In the actual families? No. That would be a bit dangerous, not to mention expensive. You're thinking a bit too small." When Bruce didn't answer, Nigma continued. "Falcone, Maroni, Thorne and all the people in their employ are just like you and me. They have needs, wants, virtues and vices. They're not nailed down to any one particular location either. So rather than recruiting people actually in the families-"

"You recruit and place informants in the locations where you know members of the crime families frequent," Bruce said. It was clever, Bruce had to give the man that. It was disconcerting in another way though. In order for Nigma to have established an informant network like this, he would have required resources and time. He'd probably been at this since he left GCPD, possibly even before. Why? "I take it that's why you've been taking cases from Gotham's rich and elite. You need money for something like this."

Nigma smiled again. "You are every bit the detective the media talks you up as. Yes, it's true. Finding stolen diamonds and cheating spouses may not be the most intellectually stimulating activity, but it does pay the bills."

"And that's why you're investigating the mob? For intellectual stimulation?" Falcone and Maroni maybe. Thorne though? Bruce had heard the hatred in Nigma's voice when he spoke the mobster's name. There was something personal there.

Nigma folded his arms. "My motives are immaterial. Do you entertain questions of why you do what you do?"

"I don't sit on information that can get people killed Nigma."

Nigma's brow furrowed. "Neither do I, Dark Knight, I only found out about Ricci's death before you and GCPD did. I had no prior knowledge of it, or of what happened to Maroni's men!" He began to pick at the sleeve of his dress shirt and muttered, "I'm not going to nominate myself for sainthood anytime soon, but even I have standards!"

Bruce ignored the muttering. "What do you know about the murders?"

Nigma took a step to the side and gestured to the whiteboard behind him. "See for yourself. I haven't been to the Ricci scene yet, but the fact that it was the same manner of death as the Maroni massacre points to it being carried out by the same perpetrator. And in any case, a car bombing doesn't fit Maroni's M.O."

Bruce took a look at the whiteboard. Most the information written in marker next to the pictures was information he'd already deduced. He took note of initials next to the photograph of Ricci. D.V. N.D. There was another set of initials written by the picture of Maroni's lieutenants. K.K. Were these the names of Nigma's sources? He noticed that there were no notes under Thorne's picture. "Do you not have sources with Thorne?"

Nigma let out a huff. "Not yet, no. His men appear to be more disciplined that Falcone's or Maroni's. He's been getting bolder though. He'll slip up soon enough."

"You're certain he was the one behind this?" Bruce was too, but he wanted to hear the other man's evidence. Nigma was egotistical enough that he'd share anything he knew just to prove his skill as a detective.

Nigma narrowed his eyes a bit. "I know what you're doing and it won't work," he said. Then his shoulders slumped. "Mostly because I don't have any hard evidence yet. But it fits. Even before tonight, Falcone and Maroni were vulnerable. They overextended themselves and delegated far too much to their underlings. Falcone's not in any kind of position to launch a counterattack and Maroni will be scrambling as well. They'll be dead by the end of the week at this rate."

Bruce considered this and realized that Nigma was right. If Nigma was able to find out where Falcone was hospitalized, it stood to reason that Thorne and Maroni would too. He needed to get to him before Thorne or Maroni did. He turned to leave when he heard the sound of Nigma clearing his throat.

"You know, I could tag along."

"I've already got a partner," Bruce answered shortly. He turned back to Nigma to catch the man rolling his eyes.

"I am aware of that. No offense intended to the Boy Wonder, but you'll be needing my expertise, not to mention my brilliant intellect on this caper."

A caper. Despite the carnage he'd witnessed, Nigma still viewed this on some level as a game. That wasn't a quality Bruce would ever appreciate in a partner. "Which expertise would you be referring to? That of a PI or that of a GCPD detective?"

For the second time that night, Nigma's jaw dropped. "You know about-" He shook his head. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you did a bit of digging. How did you find out? Bullock?"

"Gordon," Bruce answered and instantly, Nigma's face softened. "He told me that you used to work in the Cybercrime division. He told me how good you were."

An almost sad smile came to Nigma's face. "Jim's a good man," he said softly, sincerely. It was the most sincere thing Bruce had heard out of him all night. "If he'd been Commissioner thirty years ago, this city might have actually stood a chance."

It seemed to Bruce that Jim's regard for Nigma may not have been entirely misplaced. He took a step towards the man again and said: "I thought at first that you might have some connections with the mob." Nigma opened his mouth to protest and Bruce held a hand up, cutting him off before he could speak. "Gordon vouched for you though and I believe him. That's why I'm going to give you a warning, just this once: stay out of this case Nigma."

Nigma's eyes narrowed. "Or else what?"

Bruce closed the distance between them in a flash and for the first time during their encounter, Nigma almost looked afraid. The flicker of fear on his face soon gave way to a defiant glare. Bruce pointed his index finger at the man's chest. "I don't know what your motives are for investigating Nigma, but people are dying. This is not a game for you to win. If you do anything to put people in danger, I will bring you in." Bruce turned his back on the man and was out the window and down the fire escape before he could utter a word.

* * *

 

"How'd it go?" Dick asked as soon as Bruce dropped down to the street. 

"I learned all that I'm going to from him," Bruce answered, getting into the driver's seat. He closed the lid of the Batmobile and turned on the car. The Batmobile drove down Fifth street back into the City Center.

"So what did you learn? How did he know about Ricci?"

Bruce's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Nigma's got a network of informants in the city keeping tabs on the crime families. He's probably got a few in GCPD as well. That's how he knew."

Dick let out a whistle. "Whoa. So he's not a made guy? That's kind of a relief."

Not to Bruce, it wasn't. If Nigma simply had been in the pocket of Maroni, Falcone or some other gangster, he could shut him down and be done with it. As it stood now, Nigma was a highly intelligent, if incredibly egotistical man with an expansive information network and no particular loyalty to either the crime lords or the GCPD. He was a completely free agent. That made him even more dangerous. When this latest bout of gang violence was over, Bruce would be keeping a closer eye on the private detective.

"I heard on the scanner that Maroni's nightclub was raided. Maroni's being taken to GCPD 'for his own safety'. Guess that means we're going to get Falcone?"

"Yes," Bruce answered. "We need to make sure that he wasn't involved with what happened with Maroni's men, then take him into protective custody as well."

"What about Nigma? Is he going to keep investigating too?"

"I told him to stay away," Bruce said. "I don't trust his motives. When I got into his office, I overheard him muttering about how  'it won't be long now' when it comes to Rupert Thorne. I think he has some vendetta against him."

Dick leaned back against the seat, his feet propped up once again against the dash. "Huh. Well, if he hates Thorne, maybe we should let him help investigate. He could actually help us."

"I'd feel a lot better about that if I knew why he hated Thorne," Bruce answered. "And why he left GCPD in the first place."

Dick shrugged. "Guess we'll need to look him up."

"Later. We need to get Falcone to safety first." He shoved his thoughts about the aggravating man and his vivid green eyes aside and focused on the task at hand. Edward Nigma was a distraction that Bruce couldn't afford to have.


	4. Carmine Falcone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Dick speak with Carmine Falcone, but an attack by the bomber forces Bruce to make a decision that will change the course of his life.

Bruce parked the Batmobile in an alleyway adjacent to Gotham City General Hospital, then gestured for Robin to follow him. The two men climbed up a fire escape of the building to the immediate right of the hospital and soon made their way up to the roof. The building was perhaps half the size of the hospital, which gave the pair a direct line of sight to the fifth story of the ten-story hospital. Once they were settled on a vantage point, Bruce pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the hospital, floor by floor. The first nine floors were brightly lit and Bruce could make out the usual traffic of medical staff, patients, and visitors. The tenth story by contrast, was darker. Bruce spotted just one doctor walking in front of the window.

“Think that’s where Falcone is?” Dick asked.

“Most likely,” Bruce answered as he continued to scan the floor for any other sign of activity. “Being the head of a mafia family has its perks, including having a private floor of a hospital.”

“Do you know what Falcone’s being treated for?”

“Nigma said chest pains, but he wasn’t any more specific than that. My guess is he doesn’t know.” If he did, he would have said so back in his office, Bruce thought. The man couldn’t seem to resist showing off what he knew. Bruce waited until the doctor was out of sight, then he placed his binoculars back in a compartment on his belt. “Let’s go. We’ll get up to the roof and then make our way down.” He took his grappling hook, aimed for the rooftop of the hospital and fired. Robin followed him a moment later, pulling himself over the rooftop ledge and making his way to the rooftop door that served as a service entrance to the hospital. Dick waited to the side as Bruce picked the lock and opened the door. Bruce walked down the stairs and Dick followed. 

"Do you think that Falcone was behind the Maroni murders?"

"No," Bruce answered as they made their way down. "But I'm sure he's got information about whoever was." The two of them stopped in front of a door and Bruce held his hand up. "Wait." He slowly opened the door and the two saw an empty hallway. Bruce stepped out, then silently gestured for Dick to follow. They walked down the hallway past empty hospital rooms and a vacant nurses station. In the distance, Bruce could hear the faint beeping of medical equipment.

"Sheesh," Dick muttered. "And I thought Crane's last hideout was creepy. This place feels haunted."

Suddenly, the pair heard footsteps coming from ahead. Bruce and Dick quickly darted into an empty room. They hid out of sight, one of them on each side of the open door as the footsteps grew louder. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce caught a glimpse of a figure approaching. As they drew closer, he recognized them as Louie "Brass Knuckles" Brazini, Falcone's personal bodyguard. To his right, Bruce could see Dick's eyes widen in recognition and his hand go to his belt. Bruce caught his gaze and shook his head. _Not yet._ Brazini was a large, formidable man with a well-deserved reputation for violence. While Bruce knew he and Dick could take him down, the ensuing ruckus would attract unwanted attention from any other man Falcone had stationed on this floor. The best way to take him down would be to use the element of surprise in their favor. Dick gave a quick nod and stilled his hand. The two waited as Brazini came closer. He was about two feet away when Bruce nodded at Dick. _Get ready._  Bruce's body tensed and he took one step away from the wall. Dick mirrored his actions. Brazini was about to walk directly in front of the doorway. Bruce gave Dick a sharp nod. _Now._

As soon as Brazini was in front of the doorway, Bruce stepped forward and grabbed Brazini by the elbow, dragging him into the room and slamming him up against the wall. Dick quickly shut the door behind them and propped a chair up against it. 

Brazini's face went white when he saw the pair, then he scowled. "What's the big idea? What the Hell are you two doing here!?"

"Just thought we'd stop by to give your boss a get well card," Dick sassed. "We just need to know where to deliver it."

"Oh no," Brazini spat. "I'm no squealer you little brat. I'm not telling you where the boss is!"

Bruce's grip on Brazini's shirt tightened and he could feel the man flinch. "It's about what happened at Maroni's restaurant tonight. I'm sure you heard about it, Louie."

"The boss had nothing to do with that-"

"Carlo Ricci's dead too," Bruce growled. "Unless you want your boss to join them, tell us where he is." 

Brazini gulped. "Ok, ok! He's in room 1012, down the hall! But don't tell him I told you!"

Bruce dropped Brazini to the floor. "Thank you for your cooperation." He then dragged him back up to his feet and shoved him towards the door. "After you." 

Dick moved the chair out of the way, then stepped to the side to allow Bruce to 'escort' Brazini out. He followed the pair out, keeping a hand on his belt in case Brazini tried to fight them after all. Brazini contented himself with muttering as the three of them walked up the hall. "Man, you guys got some nerve bugging the boss like this. He only got out of surgery yesterday."

"Surgery? What's wrong with him?" Bruce asked. 

"Somethin' to do with his heart, I think. I ain't a doctor, how should I know?" Brazini stopped walking when they reached a large room at the end of the hall. The marker on the door read 1012. "Here it is," Brazini said. He opened the door and walked in, Bruce and Dick following close behind. 

The room was large on the inside as well and empty, with only a few token mementos on the drawer in the far right corner of the room. In the center of the room, lying propped up in a hospital bed, was Carmine Falcone. Bruce narrowed his eyes as he took a step closer to the bed. Carmine Falcone had been one of the leading figures in the Gotham Underworld for over thirty years. He was a formidable man by reputation and by physical presence as well. The man lying in the hospital bed was a far cry from that figure. Falcone was pale as a sheet and his face was sunken in, showing just how much weight he'd lost in recent times. He was only in his early sixties, but his thinning, almost white hair and the deep lines on his face made him look at least twenty years older. His eyes were closed, but Bruce could faintly hear the faint, labored sound of his breathing over the sound of the monitoring equipment posted next to his bedside. Bruce hesitated for a moment, looking over Falcone's prone body. He'd dedicated his life to making sure that men like Falcone saw their influence in Gotham dwindle to nothing, but he still felt a twinge of pity for the man in the bed. Falcone was a shell of who he used to be. 

"Falcone?" Bruce asked.

Falcone stirred, then slowly opened his eyes. His dark brown, almost black eyes focused on Bruce, then closed again. "Goddammit," he groaned out. "You. Figures."

Bruce leaned in closer. "I need to talk to you, Falcone. It's about what happened tonight."

Falcone didn't open his eyes, but he weakly nodded. "Carlo and Maroni's guys. I heard. One of my guys came by and told me an hour ago. You think I did it?"

"No," Bruce answered. "But I think you know who did."

For a long moment, Falcone said nothing. Finally, he spoke. "Louie?"

Brazini stepped forward. "Yeah, boss?"

"Leave us alone."

"Are you sure boss?"

"Yeah. Stay outside the door in case anyone else comes."

Brazini looked from his boss to Bruce and Dick, then reluctantly left the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Falcone spoke again. "I didn't have anything to do with what happened to Sal's guys. And I know Sal didn't kill Carlo."

"How?" Dick asked.

Bruce thought for a moment, then realized the truth. "You and Maroni are negotiating a truce, aren't you?"

Falcone weakly nodded. "Yeah. About a week ago, before I went in for surgery, Sal and I met at the old courthouse. We'd been pulling back for a while, but we were going to officially declare a ceasefire."

That would explain why there had been a decrease in street-level crime. "You and Maroni have been fighting each other for years. Why a ceasefire now?"

Falcone sighed. "Look at me. I just had to have a heart bypass surgery. It bought me a little time, but I'll be dead in a few years anyway. Between the other gangsters, the freaks, the cops and you, I've got almost nothing left. I don't want to spend the time I have left fighting with Sal over crumbs. Sal agreed with me." Falcone shook his head. "All those years, all those men we lost. We should have teamed up a long time ago." He opened his eyes slightly to glare at Bruce. "We might have actually stood a chance against you."

"So it's not just a ceasefire," Bruce said, crossing his arms. "You're entering an alliance with Maroni."

Falcone laughed a bit before he dissolved into coughing. "Yeah," he admitted once the coughing fit had passed. "Sal and I...we put too much into this city. Even if I'm not long for this world, I'm not gonna let the freaks, or thugs like Thorne push me out. Would've brought Arnie in too, before you got to him. We three, we're the last of our kind. We're the last people in this town with any sense of honor. Thorne? He's a two-faced coward. He doesn't have any regard for his people or for anything else."

Dick snorted. "Yeah, you sure have regard for your people, Carmine. How many of your people got killed in this gang wat between you and Maroni before you decided to call it quits again?"

Falcone snarled. "Don't try to put that all on me boy! You don't think you or your boss here had anything to do with that!? You, Gordon and Dent before Thorne blew off his face...you put the hammer down hard on us. Too hard. There were too many people and not enough to go around. Then when the families started to fall, the freaks came in." Falcone glared back at Bruce. "There was order in this city before you came in. Now, instead of guys like me, you've got clowns and plant women and scarecrows poisoning people for no good reason except they think its fun. You really think you're making this city better? All you did was trade one group of crooks for another. And your new group of crooks does more harm in one week than I did in a whole year." Falcone began to cough again and leaned back to catch his breath.

Bruce had, more than once, considered the impact of his actions. After Harvey especially, he had his moments where he would be up until the crack of dawn, wondering if he was really doing the right thing. He shook his head. There was no time for that now. "We don't have the time for this. Did anyone in your crew know that you met with Maroni?"

Falcone shook his head. "Carlo did," he said. "No one else knew. I don't know if Sal told anyone." He weakly looked back up at Bruce. "You think someone ratted on us to Thorne and that's why Carlo and Maroni's guys got killed?"

So Falcone at least was convinced it was Thorne. Was that just a suspicion, or did he have any kind of evidence? "Why do you think it was Thorne?"

Falcone rolled his eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be a detective. Who else would do it? If Sal and I go down, he's the one who benefits. Everyone else is either dead, retired or in jail. Thorne ordered this. I guarantee it."

How would Thorne have found out though? Either he was having Maroni and Falcone tailed, or he had a mole in one or both of their organizations. If it was the latter, finding that mole would take time. Bruce thought back to the conversation he had with Nigma back in the man's office and an idea came to him. Nigma had an information network that had eyes and ears on Maroni and Falcone. It was very possible that Nigma's informants had crossed paths with this mole. Bruce rubbed his chin. It seemed like he would need to pay the private investigator another visit. "We'll look into that," he said to Falcone. "In the meantime, you need to be moved to a more secure location."

Falcone shook his head. "No one knows I'm here except my most senior crew, Gordon, and you now, I guess. Did Gordon tell you I was here?"

"No," Bruce answered, and he noticed Falcone's already pale face become even more drained of color. "You're not as secure as you think. I can call Gordon and have you escorted to a different hospital."

"The GCPD?" Falcone asked. "You know how many guys at GCPD that Thorne has in his pocket? It'd be open season on me. I'm staying right here."

Bruce opened his mouth to argue with the man when Brazini's voice yelled out. _"Hey! Who are you!?"_  A single gunshot rang out. Bruce grabbed a batarang and threw the door wide open. Brazini was lying on the floor next to the door, holding a hand over a bleeding wound in his side. Another man stood maybe ten feet away, holding a revolver in his hands. He was between 5'10 and 6'0, with neat blond hair and grey eyes that were as wide as saucers when he realized that the Batman himself was standing in front of them. Bruce took advantage of his surprise to throw his batarang, knocking the gun out of his hands. The man backed up, then turned around and ran at full speed towards the stairwell Bruce and Dick had entered the floor through earlier. 

Bruce paused to examine Brazini's wound as a doctor ran up. "What on Earth-" His jaw dropped when he saw the scene before him. 

"This man is wounded, take care of him!" Bruce shouted. Dick came out of the room then and took off after the gunman. "Robin! Wait!" Bruce left Brazini in the care of the doctor and chased after his ward down the hallway. If this was the same person who had murdered Ricci and Maroni's men, odds were good that he also had a-

Bruce was just about at the stairwell when an explosion rocked the floor. Shrapnel flew out of the stairwell and Bruce only avoided being hit by it and dropping to the ground, covering his face and body with his cape. Bruce lowered his cape and got to his feet when he heard a groan of pain. _Dick!_ "ROBIN!"

Bruce ran into the stairwell, his boots crunching on pieces of metal as he carefully made his way down the mangled stairwell. There was no sign of his ward. "Robin!"

He made it down two flights of stairs when he saw Dick, lying sprawled by the doorway to the eight floor. Bruce ran to his side. He had a cut in his face that would require stitches and he was holding his leg close to him, but he was alive. "Batman..."

Bruce took his cape off and wrapped it around Dick. "What happened?"

Robin hissed in pain. "I followed him down to the ninth floor, I almost had him but...he had the ninth floor doorway ready to blow. I saw the detonator before he pressed it and jumped down a flight...I think I broke my leg..."

"You'll be alright," Bruce soothed. "I'm getting us out of here."

Dick weakly laughed. "Figures I'd get hurt in a hospital of all places."

* * *

 

Dick's leg was indeed broken. After being looked over, having his cut treated and getting a cast put on, Bruce had driven straight back to Wayne Manor. Dick was lying on the living room couch now, being tended to by Alfred.

"Guess I should be glad it's just a broken leg," Dick said. "But still."

"You should be glad that you're still alive Master Dick," Alfred lightly scolded, putting a cup of tea in front of him. "That's more than seven other men tonight can say."

"I guess," Dick said. "What about Brazini?"

"He'll live," Bruce said. "This should be enough to convince Falcone to let Gordon take him into protection."

"But we still got a killer out there and who knows what Thorne will do now that Maroni and Falcone are basically off the streets." Dick looked up apologetic at Bruce. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run after him. Now I'm not going to be able to help you out there."

"It's not your fault Dick," Bruce assured him. "You can still be plenty of help here."

"After he gets plenty of rest of course," Alfred said pointedly. Then his face took on a concerned expression. "Will you be quite alright handling this sir?"

"I'll be fine Alfred," Bruce said. He inwardly sighed. This was not the course of action he wanted to take, but now it seemed he had no choice. "I won't be out there alone."

Alfred looked confused, while Dick's eyebrows raised. "You're going to take Nigma up on his offer, aren't you?"

"Nigma?" Alfred asked. "That gaudy private investigator? What does he have to do with this?"

"Nigma's been investigating this as well, Alfred," Bruce explained. "I spoke with him earlier this evening. He has an information network that's been keeping tabs on Maroni and Falcone's men."

Alfred nodded. "My word. It seems then sir, that it may be quite beneficial to work with him."

It may be, Bruce thought. Something told him though that he was about to make one of the worst decisions of his life. 


	5. The 'New Partner'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds out a bit more about Edward Nigma's background before their 'partnership' officially begins.

After making sure Dick was comfortable, Bruce allowed himself to sleep. By early afternoon he was up, showered and sitting at the Batcomputer. According to the news reports, all of the patients at Gotham City General had been evacuated, including Carmine Falcone. He'd have to check in with Gordon tonight to make sure that the elderly mobster had agreed to police protection. For now, Bruce was focused on background research for another person entirely. He was looking right now at a five-year-old file picture of a man he'd obtained from the GCPD server. The text below the picture read  _Nashton, Edward. Cybercrime Division._ Bruce considered the picture. Nigma hadn't apparently been as ostentatious at GCPD as he was now. He was wearing a blue sweater vest over a plain white dress shirt. His auburn hair hung loose, rather than the slicked back look he seemed to favor in the present. His personality, on the other hand, hadn't seemed to change much. His smirk in the old photograph was just as cocky and self-satisfied as the smirk he'd worn the previous evening. Even then, he seemed to carry himself as a man who knew the answers to all of life's questions and who wasn't shy about letting others know that. Bruce leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk and folding his hands in thought. What had happened in the five years between Nigma's departure from GCPD and now to make the man what he was? And why had he left GCPD in the first place?

Bruce was so engrossed in the picture that he almost didn't hear Alfred coming up behind him, carrying a tray with a plate of food and a cup of coffee. "Who is that you're looking at, Master Bruce?"

"I'm surprised you don't recognize him, Alfred," taking the cup when Alfred set the tray down next to him. He took a long sip of coffee before he continued, "He's only been on the news at least once a week for the past six months."

Alfred made a small noise of surprise. "My word. That's Edward Nigma? I hardly recognized him without any hint of green on."

"This is back when he worked for GCPD," Bruce explained. "He was part of the cybercrime division." It occurred to Bruce that every time he pulled information from the GCPD server, he had Nigma to thank for it. He reflexively scowled. "I wanted to find out as much as I can about him before I approach him tonight."

"And what have you found out so far?"

Bruce tapped a few keys. "Nothing much. He has no family listed. The earliest records I can find about him are his college transcripts from Gotham University. And according to his personnel file, he was a model employee. There were no complaints about him from other officers. There's no criminal record for him either."

"Well, I'd imagine not. Even someone as unscrupulous as Loeb was had to have some hiring standards."

Bruce took another sip of coffee. "Nigma was a hacker Alfred. He might have been able to cover his tracks before he came to GCPD." He typed a few commands on the computer. "When I encountered him at the party, I thought I could detect a bit of a New England inflection when he spoke. I'm expanding the search to include any records about him from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire and Rhode Island."

"This Nigma character has made quite an impression on you, hasn't he Sir?"

Bruce frowned a bit at the teasing tone in Alfred's voice. "He's been operating an information network under everyone's noses for months, possibly years. I don't like that."

"No of course not. I suppose that was why you were staring so intently at his picture when I came in as well?"

Bruce said nothing but closed the picture of Nigma. He focused instead on a court record that the search had returned. It was a record from Connecticut that was over twenty years old. Bruce rubbed his chin. Unless Nigma had access to one of Ra's Lazarus Pits, this couldn't be about him. He took a look at the article anyway. "Did you find something, sir?" Alfred asked.

"It's a court transcript from Connecticut," Bruce took a closer look. "Regarding the sentence of a William Nashton."

"A relative of Nigma's, perhaps?"

"Most likely," Bruce answered. He read further. "Twenty-five years ago, William Nashton was arrested on charges that he-" Bruce paused slightly as he read the next lines. This was something he hadn't expected. 

"He what, Master Bruce?"

Bruce sighed. "That he severely and repeatedly beat his son."

"Oh dear," Alfred said. "Do you think this is Nigma's father?"

Bruce leaned back in his chair. "The son's name isn't mentioned, but the timeline fits. The article says that the son was taken into foster care and never returned to his father's custody. There's no mention of any mother." This would explain why there was no family listed, as well as the lack of any information about Nigma before he was college age. He must have come straight to Gotham after he aged out of the system. Bruce closed the windows and stood up. "I think I've found out all I can about who he was before GCPD. I'm still no closer to finding out why he left, or what his connection to Thorne might be."

"Perhaps given his background, he has an inherent distaste for thugs like Thorne."

Bruce shook his head. "I don't think that's it. He'd be just as hostile towards Falcone and Maroni if that was the case. The way he spoke about Thorne in his office...there's something more personal there." Bruce's first thought was that it was connected to Nigma's departure from GCPD. Gordon had sworn up and down that Nigma wouldn't be on the take. Perhaps Thorne had approached him with a bribe and Nigma had rejected it? Loeb was believed to be in the pockets of one of the crime families. The only reason why it had never been proven was that he'd been murdered while in custody before his corruption trial years ago. If Loeb was in Thorne's pocket, that could explain the argument in his office. Perhaps he'd forced Nigma out...but then again, Gordon had been approached for bribes numerous times and he'd never been forced out. And if Thorne had thought Nigma was too dangerous to be allowed to be not on his payroll, he more than likely would have had him killed, just as he and the other families had killed people who inconvenienced them. Bruce shook his head. The more he found out about the man, the less he understood. "I'll figure it out, Alfred."

"I'm sure you will sir," Alfred said reassuringly. "In the meantime, I've made up the downstairs guest room for Master Dick to stay in while he's recovering. He and I have decided to tell the university and anyone else who may inquire that he was in a car accident to explain his leave of absence."

"Good," Bruce said. "He can help me out by monitoring the chat on the scanners and doing research."

"And I'm sure he'll be delighted to do so," Alfred said in a droll tone. "Also, Ms. Vreeland called. She insisted on taking you out to lunch since you had to leave her party early last night."

"Wonderful." Bruce was about to ask him to think of an excuse not to go but thought better of it. Veronica had taken quite a shine to Nigma. Perhaps there was something she could tell him that the computer couldn't. "Well, I do have some time to kill before I meet with Gordon."

* * *

 

"Bruce! Darling!" Veronica's wide smile fell almost the instant Bruce sat in the wooden chair on the opposite end of the small round table on the outdoor terrace of the Rose Cafe. "What happened to you? You look like you barely slept last night!"

Bruce had managed to clean up for his visit with Veronica, but there wasn't much he could do about the bags under his eyes. He brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose to exaggerate how exhausted he was. "I didn't," he answered truthfully. "Dick, my ward, was in a car accident last night."

Veronica brought her hand up to her mouth. "Oh my goodness! Is he alright?"

"He has a broken leg, but he'll be fine. He's staying at Wayne Manor for a bit to recover. Needless to say, I had a bit of a late night after I left."

Veronica visibly sighed with relief. "Well, that's good. That he'll be alright I mean, not that he broke his leg. And here I was, ready to scold you for not taking care of yourself!"

Bruce had to smile. Veronica could be a bit overdramatic and trying company at times, but she was deep down, a good person. "Thank you for that Ronnie."

Veronica smiled again. "No need to thank me at all, Bruce. To tell the truth, after you and Eddie left last night, the party got a bit dull." She let out a sigh. "I tried to invite Eddie out too, but he said he was busy on a case."

Here was the opening. "Oh?" he asked. "Did he at least tell you what he was working on?"

Veronica shook her head. "No. He did tell me one thing though." She took a quick look round to make sure the customers sitting around them weren't listening in before she leaned forward, conspiratorially. "He saw Batman last night."

Bruce pretended to be interested. "Oh? Did he now?"

"He did. He was very excited about it too. You should have heard him, Bruce, it was like a child meeting Santa Claus for the first time." She leaned back to laugh a bit. "It was actually quite adorable."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. From his limited experience, 'adorable' wasn't a word he would use to describe Edward Nigma. "Adorable? Really Ronnie?"

"Yes Bruce, really. Oh, I know you don't like him much, but you really should give him a chance. When he's not doing his 'genius private investigator' routine, he can actually be a little sweetheart."

Somehow, Bruce truly doubted that. "And you know this..."

Veronica took a sip out of her spring water before she answered. "Well, for starters, despite what you might think of PIs, he's not sleazy at all. He made no overtures to me, he listened to me when I told him about my problems and he didn't attempt to overcharge me in the slightest."

Just because Nigma was capable of showing basic respect to a wealthy client didn't mean he was in any way altruistic. Bruce was about to tell Veronica this when she continued, "After he recovered my diamonds actually, I stopped by his office to thank him. He was already talking to another client of his. It was a young mother and her son. When she left, I ran into her in the hallway and you know what she told me he did for her?"

"Caught her husband in an affair and made sure she got a large divorce settlement?" Bruce asked.

He was surprised by the genuine scowl on Veronica's face. "Oh Bruce, must you be so cynical? As a matter of fact, she wasn't wealthy at all. And her husband wasn't cheating on her. He was beating her."

Bruce actually was stunned by this. Nigma had billed himself as a private detective to the elite of Gotham's society. "What did Nigma do for her?" he asked, now genuinely curious.

"He helped her and her son get away from the creep. He was able to get them to a shelter and he got enough evidence about the man to get him sent to jail for years. He didn't charge her a penny either. He even gave her money to get a plane ticket out of Gotham and back to her family in Michigan!" When Bruce said nothing in response, she smiled. "Well, after hearing that, how could I not fall for him, just a bit?"

It made sense, Bruce supposed, that given Nigma's background, that he may have an aversion to abusers. But this...this didn't fit at all with the smug, self-centered man he'd met the night before. Then again...he had shown a genuine regard for Gordon the previous evening. Bruce idly listened as Veronica continued to chat. The more he found out about Edward Nigma, the less he understood him.

* * *

 

Bruce had been perched on the rooftop of the office building for over an hour, staring through his binoculars into the old brownstone building across the street and at one office in particular. Night had long since fallen over Gotham City and with it came the chatter of the evening crowd. As expected, the murders of Ricci and Maroni men, as well as the attempt on Falcone's life had been the talk of the town. Summer Gleason had provided continuous updates throughout the day, which Bruce had largely kept up with. When he had stopped by GCPD, Gordon had confirmed that Falcone had gone into police protection. However, his health had suffered a decline due to the stress of the attack so he would be unavailable for any further information. Maroni had lawyered up and wasn't talking to anyone. Bruce would pay a visit to him as well, but for now, the man in the office he was scoping out was his best source of information.

Dick's voice crackled in the intercom in his cowl. _"Any sign of Nigma?"_

"Not yet," Bruce answered. It was well after 9:00 and his search earlier didn't turn up any home address. Where could he be? Finally, Bruce saw a light turn on. "I've gotta go. There's a light on in his office."

_"OK. What do you want me to do in the meantime?"_

"Keep your eyes and ears open and check in with me if anything happens. I'll check in later." Bruce put his binoculars away and took out his grappling hook, aiming it at the very same fire escape he used to get into the office the previous night. He landed on it just in time to see Nigma pass in front of the window. Bruce watched as he took off his green suit jacket and hung it up on the coat rack by the front door to the office. Nigma turned to face the window and his eyes widened when he saw Bruce on the fire escape. So much for the element of surprise. Bruce slid the window open and stepped into the office. "Busy night, Nigma?"

For a moment Nigma didn't say anything. Then, much to Bruce's irritation, he chuckled. "Well well. Back again already. Am I just that intriguing, Dark Knight?"

Bruce ignored the man's jibe as he strode forward. "We need to talk. I trust you heard about the bombing at the hospital last night."

A dark look came across the man's face. "I did. I had nothing to do with, in case you're wondering."

"I know you didn't Nigma," Bruce said. He continued to advance toward Nigma, stopping only when he was barely a foot from the other man. He didn't miss how the private detective tensed up slightly, or that his face was faintly flushing. "I saw the man behind the attacks."

Nigma's expression turned into that of interest. "You did?" Then she smirked in triumphant realization. "And you don't know who he is. But you think that I do. You need my help."

"I need your informants' help," Bruce corrected. "All I need from you is to take me to them."

Nigma's grin didn't falter in the slightest. "So I take it this means we're partners now?"

Bruce glared slightly at the other man. "Here are the ground rules: this is my investigation. You follow my lead. You do exactly what I tell you to do. And you tell no one about this. Understood?"

Nigma glared back at Bruce, not wavering for a moment. "I'm a detective too, I'll have you know. And a great one. I'm not some little foot soldier you can dictate orders to. And you don't say anything to my informants without me being present." He pointed his finger directly at Bruce's face. "I've spent a long time cultivating some of these sources and I'm not about to have you scare them away!"

Bruce leaned forward so that his face was only inches away from Nigma's. He watched the other man's green eyes widen a bit from fright, and a bit from another emotion Bruce didn't want to think about. "Those are my terms Nigma. Take it or leave it." He watched as Nigma's brow creased in thought then as his shoulders sagged. 

"Fine," he said at last. "Let me just get my coat back on." 

Bruce took a step back and watched as Nigma put his green jacket back on and grabbed a cane from off of a hook on the wall. Bruce noticed that the cane handle was in the shape of a question mark. "I didn't realize you needed a cane."

"Just an aesthetic choice," Nigma explained. He turned to give Bruce a cheeky grin. "It has other purposes as well. Maybe you'll see." He held his arm out in a flourish. "So! Ready to go partner?"

Bruce was already starting to regret this. "Just keep the theatricality to a minimum, please."

"Oh, you're hardly one to talk, Mr. 'Dresses up like a bat and dangles thugs from rooftops'."

Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'd like to speak with your Falcone sources."

Nigma grinned. "Very well then. Your car or mine?"

"My car," Bruce said. "It's parked across the street. Don't touch anything in it."

If anything, Nigma became more excited. "Going to Pandora's Box in the Batmobile. The girls will never believe it."

"Pandora's Box?"

"Oh, you haven't heard of it? I suppose not, given your reputation for lawful behavior. It's a perfectly charming little-"

"S&M club," Bruce finished. He had to suppress a smirk of his own when he saw Nigma's look of surprise. "Somehow I'm not surprised that you're familiar with it."

Nigma's face flushed at the implication. "I don't have to take that from a man in-never mind. Shall we?"

Bruce gestured towards the front door. "After you." As he watched Nigma open the door, Bruce couldn't help but feel that he'd made a mistake. It couldn't be helped though. If he wanted answers about the gang war and about Nigma himself, he had to go through with this.


	6. Pandora's Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce meets two of Nigma's sources and gets to see the private detective in action.

The drive to Gotham's Lower Westside was as uneventful as one could expect, given the occupants of the car. Bruce looked out of the corner of his eye at his passenger, who seemed positively delighted at the fact that he was in the Batmobile. Nigma had been asking questions about the controls since he'd buckled in. He pointed at a small blue button on the dashboard, like a child in a candy store. "What does this do?"

"Smoke grenades," Bruce answered shortly.

Nigma nodded, a smile coming to his face. "Fascinating. I can't imagine the kind of resources it must take to maintain a vehicle like this..." He pointed to a large red button next to it. "What about this one?"

It was actually to launch a grappling hook, but Bruce decided to have a bit of fun at the man's expense. "Passenger ejection seat." 

He smirked at the wide-eyed expression on Nigma's face. "Really?"

"Want to give it a test?"

Nigma sat against his seat with a huff. "Oh, very funny. Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?"

Bruce turned his attention back to the road. "Focus, Nigma. This isn't a social excursion."

"Yes, yes," Nigma said. "There's no reason we can't at least attempt to enjoy ourselves on this caper."

"This isn't a 'caper', Nigma. Eight people were killed and Falcone was attacked in less than ten hours. You need to take this seriously." When they stopped at a red light, Bruce turned to see that Nigma had a thunderous expression on his face.

"Just because I don't dress in black and terrify back alley denizens doesn't mean I don't take my work seriously," he said. He crossed his arms. "I didn't agree to work with you so you could talk down to me."

Bruce's grip tightened on the steering wheel, but then he relaxed. The man had been in GCPD once. He clearly wasn't a stranger to an investigation. "I didn't mean to be condescending," he said at last. "But the people behind this are dangerous. We both need to keep our eyes open and not get distracted."

Nigma's expression was still angry, but he gave a curt nod. "Of course," he said. He gave Bruce a curious look. "Why isn't Robin with you? Why did you come back to my office?"

The light turned green and Bruce took advantage of it to concentrate on driving. Nigma however continued. "That explosion in the hospital...Robin was injured, wasn't he?"

"Nigma," Bruce grit out. "Drop it."

There was a long moment of silence in the car, for which Bruce was grateful. Then, he heard Nigma say something he never expected. "I'm sorry." Bruce took his eyes off of the road to look at Nigma's face. His earlier irritation was gone and he looked genuinely regretful. Bruce didn't respond and turned his eyes back to the road. Nothing more was said for the rest of the drive.

Finally, Bruce pulled the Batmobile off the main road and pulled into a narrow alleyway. He parked in front of a dingy bar, the neon light sign flickering off and on, bathing the Batmobile's hood in a pink glow. Bruce opened the hood of the car, allowing himself and Nigma to exit.

"The Treasure Chest bar," Nigma said with a flourish. Now that they were here, it seemed that he'd chosen to go back to his confident, swaggering persona. "Home to all sorts of colorful characters. As well as a few surprises." He gave Bruce a mischievous look. "Shall we?"

Bruce continued into the bar, not bothering to say a word. The few denizens that were still in the bar at this hour shrank back at the sight. Even the bartender, a burly man with a heart tattoo on his large left arm, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw just who had come into his bar. He quickly raised up both hands. "Hey, I don't want no trouble man,"

"We're not here to cause trouble," Bruce heard Nigma say. The green-clad private investigator shot him a dirty look before continuing to address the bartender. "Nice seeing you again, Doug."

The bartender visibly relaxed. "Oh, it's just you, Eddie. Came to see the girls?"

"Astute as always, Doug. May we?" 

The bartender got from behind the counter and guided the pair to a liquor shelf near the back of the bar. He pushed the shelf aside to reveal a steel door. The bartender got out of the way as quickly as he could. "Tell Deirdre she still owes me from last week!"

Nigma let out a laugh as he stepped forward to open the door. "We'll be dead and buried before she ever pays that bar tab. See you soon, Doug." Nigma pulled the door open to reveal a staircase heading down towards a lower level. He turned back to Bruce and stepped to the side, holding his arms out. "After you." Bruce stepped forward without another word. Nigma followed, shutting the door behind them and the light from the bar gave disappeared, leaving a dim light from the hallway below as the only source of illumination.

"You know the bartender?" Bruce asked as the pair made their way down the staircase. 

"Quite well," Nigma answered. "He's been a source of mine for some time. More importantly, he's a middleman between me and the girls."

"I take it Dierdre's one of those girls?"

"Very good. Yes, Dierdre Vance, the owner of Pandora's Box. Her girlfriend, Nina Damfino should be down tonight too. She doesn't work in Pandora's Box, but she comes around a lot when she's not out with her biker friends."

Dierdre Vance and Nina Damfino. 'D.V' and 'N.D.' That answered those initials on Nigma's whiteboard. Now to figure out just who 'K.K.' was. "How exactly did you come to know these two?"

Bruce could hear Nigma chuckle a bit. "Come come, you don't expect me to give away all of my secrets, now do you? Where's the fun in that?"

Bruce barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure he'd find out soon enough. The pair had reached the bottom of the staircase and began walking down a hallway, lit with a low red light above. Decades ago, during the height of prohibition, this had lead to an underground speakeasy. After prohibition had been repealed, the speakeasy had been abandoned, and the space had been used by various groups since for illicit activities. Pandora's Box was only the latest tenant, having set up shop about five years ago. Bruce himself had been there twice before while pursuing leads for various cases, but he kept that information to himself, for now. Bruce and Nigma reached the end of the hallway and approached another steel door. Nigma darted ahead of Bruce.

"Allow me," he said. He took the head of his cane and rapped it against the door three times. There was a slight pause before the door opened to reveal a large man, dressed head to toe in leather, wearing a mask that revealed only his mouth and eyes. Bruce recognized him as the bouncer for the club. He also recalled that the last time he'd been here, he'd dislocated the man's arm for attempting to physically prevent him from entering the club. From the way that the man's eyes widened, he remembered that all too well. Then he looked at Nigma. "You!"

Nigma tipped his hat at the man. "Evening, Mike. Is the lady of the house in?"

The man stepped forward, extending his hand out to Nigma and Bruce grabbed a Batarang. Before he could throw it though, the man had laughed and heartily clapped Nigma on the shoulder. "Eddie Nigma! Come on in! How the Hell are you?"

Nigma chuckled. "I've been well. I'm afraid this isn't a social visit though. My associate and I are here on business."

The bouncer glared at Bruce. "He's caused trouble here before, Ed. Are you sure you can trust him?"

Nigma turned to give Bruce and almost scandalized look before he cleared his throat. "Cross my heart, Mike. We're just here to talk to the girls."

The bouncer looked reluctant but stepped to the side to allow them entrance. "OK, but only because you're vouching for him." Nigma strolled in and Bruce followed, glaring right back at the bouncer. "You better not be setting Eddie up," the bouncer growled before shutting the door. Bruce ignored him and followed Nigma into the club.

The main room of the club was bathed in a red light, similar to that in the hallway. There were perhaps two dozen people milling about the floor, dressed in various BDSM paraphernalia, or in a few cases, not dressed at all. Bruce barely acknowledged them as he followed Nigma, watching as he exchanged pleasantries with a few regulars before making his way to a private curtained area near the back of the club. No one seemed particularly surprised to see either the private detective or the Caped Crusader and Bruce wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Bruce followed him past a few private stalls, ignoring the muffled groans coming from within. Finally, Nigma stopped at a large room, this one with a door rather than a curtain. He rapped his cane against it, calling out "Deirdre! Nina! Are you decent?"

The door swung wide open and two women walked out, one with a short, black pixie cut dressed as if she'd just come in from a biker rally and the other wearing a surprisingly professional blouse and pants, her long blonde hair hanging loose. Nigma had mentioned that Damfino was a biker, so that meant the blonde woman was Vance. Nigma held his arms out jovially. "Girls!"

The girl with the black hair stepped forward, embracing Nigma fondly, while the blonde came forward and placed her hand on his shoulder somewhat stand-offishly, but with still obvious affection. "Eddie!" the brunette said. "It's been forever! Where have you been?"

Nigma laughed. "I'm sorry, Nina. Work caught up with me, I'm afraid." That confirmed their identities for Bruce at least. Nigma took a step back and looked at the pair of them. "You two certainly look like you've been up to some mischief!"

"You're one to talk, Eddie," Vance drawled, her lazy brown eyes making their way to Bruce. Bruce steeled himself for a potential confrontation, but instead, she looked back to Nigma. "Business or pleasure?"

Even in the red light of the club, Bruce could detect Nigma's flush. "Business, Deirdre, I assure you!" He gestured to the room behind them. "May we speak in private?"

Vance gave a quick nod and she and Damfino led them both into the room. Bruce shut the door behind them as the women took their seats at a large desk in the what Bruce now realized was an office. Nigma took a seat in a chair in front of the desk while Bruce remained standing. "Now to business," Nigma addressed Vance. "I trust you two have been keeping up with the news the last twenty-four hours?"

Damfino nodded. "The mob killings? Yeah, we heard." She looked up at Bruce with vague interest. "That's why Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding is here?"

"Nigma told me that you two are part of an information network he's set up to keep tabs on the crime families in Gotham," Bruce said matter of factly. "Do any members of the crime families come to this club?"

Vance raised a manicured eyebrow. "Aren't we blunt?"

Nigma raised his hands in supplication. "Now now, dear. Don't let his gruffness get on your nerves too much."

Vance huffed but continued. "Fine. One of Falcone's enforcers is a regular here. Dominic D'Abruzzo. He comes in every two weeks or so, more often if there's some action going on with the other gangs." She reached down to open a drawer on her desk and pulled out a large manila envelope. She passed it to Nigma. "Dommy boy's into pain and women with high heels."

"You don't say," Nigma said, opening the envelope. He pulled out a photograph and his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. "Oh my. This is something he'd never be able to live down." He grinned. "Perfect."

"You take photographs of your patrons?" Bruce asked. Even if he personally found what the patrons of Pandora's Box got up to a bit unseemly, he found blackmail even more so.

"Just the mob guys," Vance said. "The normal guys and girls that come in looking for fun? No. Everyone deserves to have a bit of fun now and again, right Eddie?"

"Quite right," Nigma said a bit hastily, placing the photograph back into the envelope. "Has D'Abruzzo said anything about his employer's activities."

"Other than reminding the girls here what a big hotshot he is, no," Vance answered. "Last week though, he brought a guest with him."

"Another member of the Falcone crew?" Bruce asked.

Vance shook her head. "Not sure. Haven't seen him before or since. I don't know all of them by sight though."

 

Nigma got out of his seat. "I think we have all that we need," he said. "Thanks again, girls."

Vance waved him off. "You still owe us lunch, Eddie."

Edward tipped his hat. "I'll take you both out this Friday. Deal?"

"Deal," Damfino said. As Bruce and Nigma prepared to leave, she said cheekily, "Have a good time, Eddie."

Bruce watched as Nigma flushed again. "Nina!" he cried out as she laughed. He quickly left the room, leaving Bruce wondering just what that exchange was about and not sure he wanted to know. He followed Nigma out of the room and back through the club.

* * *

 

"So," Nigma said as they walked back into the balmy Spring night, "Off to rouse D'Abruzzo?"

Bruce said nothing as he entered the Batmobile. As soon as Nigma had strapped himself in, he said in a cold tone "You didn't tell me that you gathered blackmail material on the mob as well."

Nigma looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't ask," he said. "And that implies that I specifically go out of my way to do so."

"And you don't?"

Nigma scowled. "I prefer to call it information gathering that I may or may not use to leverage more information out of certain parties. It's not all that different from what we used to do in GCPD."

"But you're not in GCPD anymore," Bruce pointed out. "You're a private citizen, which means you're playing a very dangerous game with no legal protection." Not to mention that if Nigma was in the habit of blackmailing mobsters, just what else was he capable of?

"You should talk!" Nigma shouted. "I happen to know for a fact that you regularly threaten to drop people from multiple stories in order to get information from them! So don't you dare take that moralizing tone with me!"

"I'd never actually do it though," Bruce ground out, struggling not to lose his temper. "I'm not so sure the same can be said about you."

Nigma leaned back in his seat. "I see," he seethed. "So is this partnership actually about solving the case with me, or do you just want to find an excuse to get rid of the competition?"

"I don't see you as competition, Nigma," Bruce said. "I've found out something about you that gives me pause. In my position, wouldn't you be a bit suspicious?"

Nigma seemed to consider this and if the pout on his face was any indication, he saw Bruce's point. "Now look who needs to focus," he said at last. "Perhaps you should spend a bit less time suspecting me and a bit more time on our next move."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, then started the Batmobile. As much as he hated to admit it, Nigma also had a point. He couldn't let his personal feelings about the man to affect the case. Too much was at stake. "We'll get D'abruzzo to talk. Then I need to talk to Maroni. And you're not going to release any information we find out about anyone."

"Of course not," Nigma said. "What good is a secret if everyone knows it?"

* * *

 

D'Abruzzo wasn't happy to see either man when they showed up to his apartment in Gotham's lower West Side. He glared defiantly down at Bruce as he held the man up against the wall. "I ain't sayin' a damn word to you freak!"

Bruce tightened his grip on D'Abruzzo's shirt. "Your boss was attacked last night," he said. "It's in your best interest to cooperate."

"Or what?" D'Abruzzo snarked. "You'll throw me off my balcony? I live on the second story asshole! I've had dinners with the rest of the crew that were more dangerous than this!"

"I'm sure you have," Nigma drawled, watching the scene with boredom. "I'm also quite sure you actually enjoy pain, don't you, Dominic?"

D'Abruzzo looked at Nigma, then back at Bruce. "What's he talking about?"

Bruce lowered D'Abruzzo off the wall but kept a tight grip on him just the same. Maybe it was time to take a step back and watch Nigma work.

Nigma walked up to the men, pulling the manila envelope out of his tailored green jacket. "I happen to know for a fact that your tastes are a bit, shall we say, unconventional. He pulled out the photograph he'd looked at back at Pandora's Box and showed it to D'Abruzzo, smirking when the enforcer's eyes widened in horror. "I suggest you listen to the man in kevlar and talk, otherwise we won't be the only ones who know."

D'Abruzzo looked almost beseechingly at Bruce. "He's not serious, is he?"

"Would you care to test him?" Bruce asked in response.

"You're Italian," Nigma continued. "You probably play the good Catholic in public at least. So must your mother I imagine. Tell me, how many 'Hail Mary's' does letting yourself be beaten by a woman in fishnet stockings and high heels merit? Or should I ask Mother D'Abruzzo that?"

"Don't you dare!" D'Abruzzo shouted, attempting to break out of his hold and rush at Nigma, only for Bruce to throw him across the room, sending him crashing into the sofa and toppling to the floor.

Nigma raised an eyebrow. "Was that really necessary?"

"You're the one who got his mother involved."

"Touche."

D'Abruzzo groaned out. "Alright," he wheezed. "Alright. I'll talk. Just don't show that to my mother."

"Very good," Nigma said. He gestured to Bruce. "He's all yours."

Bruce walked over to where D'Abruzzo lay on the floor and glowered down at him. "We were told you brought a guest to Pandora's Box the last time you went," he said. "Who was that?" 

"Just another guy I know in the crew," D'Abruzzo said. "He was curious. Why do you wanna know?"

"I think there's a mole in your crew," Bruce said. He watched carefully as D'Abruzzo's eyes widened in surprise, then as his face reddened in outrage. D'Abruzzo clearly was lacking in judgment, but he wasn't the mole. "Someone leaked information about your boss to Thorne. Who knew he was going to be hospitalized?"

"We all knew the boss was sick," D'Abruzzo said. "The boss's lawyer, Louie, and Carlo were the only ones who knew where he was goin' though-" D'Abruzzo's brow creased in thought. "No," he murmured. "That ain't true. There was someone else who knew too."

Bruce leaned down. "Who?"

"The boss's driver," he said. "He knew. He had to know. He took the boss just about everywhere."

Including to his meeting with Maroni. Bruce stepped away from the crumpled man and walked back towards Nigma. "We're done here."

"Wonderful," Nigma said. He took placed the photograph back in the envelope and tossed the envelope towards D'Abruzzo's prone form. "A token of appreciation for your service."

"Fuck you," D'Abruzzo called out.

"Not in this lifetime or the next!" Nigma shouted back. He looked at Bruce with a satisfied grin. "To the driver then? I know who and where he is."

"Of course you do," Bruce said. "Let's go, 'Partner'."


	7. The Driver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Edward go to pay Falcone's driver a visit, but an incident there significantly affects their relationship.

The two were barely back in the Batmobile when Nigma began to recite information about the suspected mole. "Mark Cragen, age 37. He's been employed as Carmine Falcone's driver for the past ten years. Address is 4525 Avenue D, apartment 1505, Gotham Starlight Apartments Gotham City."

Bruce nodded as he programmed the address into he onboard Batcomputer. He could see Nigma staring gleefully at it out of the corner of his eye. He did seem to have developed a fondness for his tech in the last few hours. As soon as he was done, Bruce fired the engines on the Batmobile and it took off. Bruce considered the information Nigma gave him. "Gotham Starlight Apartments. That's in the Downtown interior. Pretty fancy neighborhood for a driver."

He heard Nigma chuckle a bit. "Quite. Which makes one wonder, how exactly he affords it."

"Thorne's been paying him off," Bruce said. He almost smiled a bit, before he caught himself. As much as he enjoyed working with Dick, it was almost refreshing to be partnered with someone who was more of an equal, rather than an apprentice. Nigma certainly kept him on his toes. "What else do you know about him?"

Nigma hummed a bit. "I happen to know from a reliable source that he also has a bit of a gambling habit. Gotham Racetracks, every Thursday afternoon. He regularly spends a few hundred dollars betting the ponies."

"Which is probably how he made contact with Thorne. He's been running the racetracks for years." They were at a red light now. Bruce turned to glance at Nigma and was surprised to see him looking back, genuine admiration on his face. 

"Well done. I may let you join my detective agency at this rate."

Bruce scoffed. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass."

Nigma shrugged. "It was worth a shot." He chuckled again. "Trading barbs with the Dark Knight himself. And to think, Nina and Deirdre never thought this would happen."

Nigma seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps he'd be a bit more receptive to questions. "How did you meet those two? On another case?"

Bruce detected a faint flush form on Nigma's face. "Not exactly," he said. He sighed. "I suppose I can tell you. Back when I first joined GCPD, a few of the more boorish of my former colleagues thought I needed to 'loosen up' a bit, so they took me to a strip club." Bruce watched the other man fidget with his sleeve a bit. "I was in my twenties at the time, I wasn't quite so-I didn't quite have the nerve to tell them-I wasn't out yet." He gave Bruce a furtive look, almost as if he was afraid that he'd pull over and toss him out of the car.

"Ah," Bruce said and he felt relief as Nigma visibly relaxed. To tell the truth, he'd had his suspicions back at the party. He had to stop himself from shaking his head. Poor Ronnie, once again falling for someone completely unattainable. 

"Well, anyway," Nigma continued. "The lot of them pooled a few hundred together and got me a private room with Deirdre. As it turned out, she was about as interested in men as I am in women. We spent a half hour talking with each other, mostly about how idiotic my colleagues were." He smiled in earnest. "She introduced me to Nina a few days later and we've been as thick as thieves since."

Bruce nodded. "So it's not purely professional. It's a genuine friendship."

Nigma turned to give him an arch look. "Is that so surprising?" He shrugged when Bruce didn't answer. "I suppose I've always been attracted to more unconventional types. I find them much more stimulating than the average person. You must be too, I think. Why else would you do what you do?"

"I do what I do for the good of this city," Bruce said immediately. "Not because I enjoy it."

Nigma scoffed. "You regularly face off against mobsters, people with extraordinary conditions and powers and a psychotic clown, all while dressed up like a bat. You can't tell me you don't enjoy it just a little bit."

Bruce didn't answer as he considered Nigma's words. He couldn't deny that there was a part of him that was exhilarated whenever he sped off in the Batmobile, that was proud whenever he'd solved a challenging case, that was excited when he used his grappling hook to fly through the night sky. He knew how much Dick enjoyed the life, for the same reasons. Despite this, Bruce never lost sight of what he stood for, of why Gotham needed a Batman. He'd lived that reality when he was eight. "I don't think you do what you do purely for the enjoyment," he said finally. "You must have had the greater good in mind at some point. Wasn't that why you joined GCPD in the first place?"

Nigma's smile turned into a dark scowl. "I was naive once," he said. "I won't be making that mistake again."

"What happened to you?" Bruce probed. "Why did you leave GCPD?"

"Why are you so fixated on that?" Nigma asked, his voice becoming almost venomous. "What does it matter, who I used to be? How is it relevant to the case at hand? I'm not about to start asking you why you started wearing that cape and cowl!"

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "It matters because it's what's been motivating you to take down Thorne. " When Nigma didn't respond, he tried in a softer tone, "Did Loeb or Thorne threaten you? Push you out?"

Nigma for a long time said nothing. Then he spoke so softly that Bruce almost couldn't hear him. "They didn't do anything to me." Bruce was about to ask him more when he folded his arms and pointedly turned to look out the passenger window. "I'm not talking about this anymore."

Bruce sighed, then turned back to concentrate on the road ahead of them. Whatever had happened at GCPD, it was apparent just how badly it had hurt Nigma. It had embittered him to the point that he'd changed his own last name in order to sever his connection to his past. Bruce wondered for a moment who Edward Nigma had been before that, or rather, who Edward Nashton had been. He was beginning to regret that he hadn't known that man. Finally, he caught sight of their destination. "We're here," he said. 

He pulled the Batmobile into the parking lot across the street from the twenty story building that was Gotham Starlight Apartments. He unbuckled his seatbelt and pressed the button that opened the hood of the car, allowing himself to get out. Nigma followed him out, not making eye contact. "Be careful," Bruce said. "He may be expecting us."

Nigma rolled his eyes. "I do know how to conduct myself around suspects, thank you very much." He pushed past Bruce without making eye contact. Bruce frowned. So he'd decided to be difficult. Wonderful. He followed Nigma to the front door of the building. Bruce checked his watch. It was 2:00 am. Only a resident with a fob would be able to get in at this hour. Normally, he'd simply grapple his way up and go in through a window, but somehow he doubted Nigma would approve of going airborne. Instead, when he approached the locked door, he pulled out a device from a pocket on his belt. "What's that?" he heard Nigma ask. It seemed that his natural curiosity won out over his sullenness. 

"It's a device to disrupt the time lock on the door," Bruce explained, placing it on the handle. The device lit up for a few seconds, then beeped before the door popped open. Nigma sniffed.

"Well done. If you want to do things the easy way, I suppose." He entered through the open door and walked towards the elevators without a look back. Bruce followed, shutting the door behind them. He made it to the elevator just as it was about to shut and stood next to Nigma, neither man speaking or even looking at the other. It was a long elevator ride to the 15th floor. As soon as the door opened, Nigma was out, taking a right turn down a hallway. Bruce followed, taking note of their surroundings. It was quiet and the hallway was empty, as Bruce suspected it would be given the hour. The denizens of this part of Gotham were either asleep or still out.

Suddenly, Nigma paused before him. Bruce caught up to him, his guard up. "What is it?"

Nigma pointed at the apartment in front of him. The door was wide open. Bruce stepped forward, a Batarang at the ready. "Stay behind me," he whispered. He stepped forward through the open door and into a living room. In the center of the room, in a pool of blood, lay the body of a white man. As Bruce took cautious steps closer, he saw two bullet wounds on the man's chest. No doubt this was Mark Cragen, Falcone's driver.

"No, no no no no!" He heard Nigma hiss out behind him. "Damn it!" The other man stomped his foot. "This was our best chance to get Thorne! Now there's no way to link him!"

"Thorne must have thought that too," Bruce said. He crouched down to get a closer look at the body. "He probably sent the same man who attacked Falcone at the hospital to make sure Cragen couldn't talk." He'd probably done the same to any informants he had in Maroni's camp as well.

"Wonderful," Nigma spat out. "I'm going to search his room to see if I can't salvage something out of this." Bruce watched the man walk past him and down a hallway to the left. If there was any evidence linking Cragen to Thorne, the killer had probably already taken it. The real evidence would be left on the body. Bruce moved his fingers to examine the wounds. .38 caliber, same as the gun the attacker at the hospital used. Then he took a closer look. The wounds were still bleeding.

Bruce moved his fingers to the pulse point on the dead man's neck. There was no pulse of course, but the body was still warm. The man had died only minutes ago. Bruce got up to his feet. The apartment was at the end of the hallway and he and Nigma hadn't seen anyone else in between getting off the elevator and arriving here. Either the killer had gone down the stairs-

_Or he was still here._

Bruce ran down the hallway towards the bedroom. "Nigma!" he shouted. In seconds, he'd made it to the man's bedroom, only to stop dead in his tracks. He was too late. Before him stood the blond man from the hospital, one gloved hand covering Nigma's mouth. The other, holding a gun to his temple. Nigma's green eyes were wide and he looked Bruce beseechingly. The man gave Bruce a crooked smile. "I see you got a new partner, Batman. What happened to Robin?" He smirked a bit. "Did I kill him?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. "Let. Him. Go."

The man took a step back, shaking his head a bit. "No, I don't think so. You take another step forward, and I'll blow his brains out." Nigma struggled a bit to get out of the man's hold, but the killer only dropped his hand from his mouth to wrap his forearm around his neck. Bruce froze. If what had happened at the hospital was any indication, the man was serious. The killer laughed. "That's a good rodent. Now, hold your hands up where I can see them."

"Don't!" Nigma shouted. "Just take him out!"

"Sounds like your partner's got a bit of a death wish," the killer said. 

"More like I've seen more hostage situations in this Godforsaken town than you've killed people," Nigma shot back. "If you kill me, what exactly is stopping Batman from breaking every bone in your body?"

The killer's smirk fell as he considered this. While this was happening, Bruce's hand slowly crept to the reverse Batarang he kept on his leftmost utility belt pocket. He'd used it before in situations like this. He just needed Nigma to keep the killer distracted for a few moments more-

The killer smirked again and began dragging Nigma towards two windowed doors on the far left side of the room. Bruce followed his movements and his own eyed widened when he realized what they were. A balcony. They were on the 15th floor. The killer pushed through them, dragging Nigma outside and Bruce quickly followed. The killer was now alongside the balcony railing, Nigma on his right side, only inches away from being over the railing. He was looking down, his eyes large as saucers. "Your partner's got a pretty smart mouth," the killer said. "Tell me: can he fly too?" Then he gave Nigma a short, sharp shove and the private detective tipped over the railing and off the building with a piercing cry.

Bruce vaulted over the railing a second later and dove down, headfirst. Nigma was free-falling, his arms outstretched. Bruce in his vertical dive was catching up to him, but three floors had gone by. _12 more._ Another second, and he'd caught up to Nigma, grabbing hold of the man. Three more stories had passed by. _9 more. "Hold on!"_ he shouted and Nigma complied, throwing his arms around his torso. Bruce angled them so that his body was facing the ever approaching ground and pulled out his grappling hook. _5 more stories._ He had to get this right. He took aim and fired back up towards the balcony railing. _3 more stories._ The hook met its target and the pair were suddenly vaulted back up. Nigma's grip tightened even more onto Bruce. As soon as the balcony railing was in sight, Bruce grabbed a hold with one hand, the other hand tossing Nigma back onto the safety of the balcony. As soon as he was sure Nigma was on solid ground, Bruce pulled himself over the railing and back on the balcony. He took a quick look. The killer was long gone, as he suspected. He might still catch him if he jumped back down toward the street-

Then he caught a glimpse of Nigma and froze. The man was curled up onto his side, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Bruce immediately went to his side. "Nigma?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

Nigma couldn't answer him at first. "I can't-I can't breathe-I can't-"

Bruce realized he was having a panic attack. He looked back to the street. He couldn't leave Nigma in a state like this. He gently brought his hand to Nigma's back and rubbed it. "Deep breaths," he said. "Take deep breaths. You're alright."

"What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?" Nigma gasped out.

Bruce frowned. "What?"

Nigma took another deep gasp of breath. "Ask me a riddle," he said. "Helps me when I get like this. What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?"

Bruce nodded. "Time to get a new fence," he said. "Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit?"

"Anywhere it wants," Nigma answered. He began to gasp again. "I thought I was going to die-"

"But you didn't," Bruce said, continuing to rub his back. "Deep breaths, Edward. Mr. Smith has four daughters. Each of them has a brother. How many children does he have?"

"Five," Edward answered. He turned to look at him. "Did-did you just call me 'Edward'?"

Bruce didn't acknowledge the question. "Feed me and I live. Give me water and I die. What am I?"

"Fire," Edward answered. His breath had slowed down and he slowly rolled over onto his back. 

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked.

Edward nodded. "I'm getting there."

"Has this happened before?"

Edward shook his head. "Not since GCPD. I can usually manage it better." He'd lost his hat in the fall, but otherwise, Edward didn't look the worse for wear. Edward pushed himself up to a sitting position. "The killer-"

"He's gone by now," Bruce said. "Relax, Edward."

"No!" He shouted. "That was our best lead! How could you let him just get away?"

"You were falling to your death," Bruce said bluntly. "Saving you was more important."

Edward's mouth dropped open at that. He looked up at Bruce with a strange wonder in his eyes. The smug, preening persona of the private detective was gone and now Bruce suspected he was beginning to see bits of the true man, of Edward Nashton. Edward groaned and shook his head. "I don't believe it. I'm not partnered with you for a few hours and I've already been a damsel in distress. The girls will never let me live it down."

"You'll live," Bruce said. He got up to his feet and picked Edward up, carrying him in a bridal hold back into the apartment. The other man flushed a bit but otherwise offered no resistance. "What happened to your cane?"

"I must have dropped it when our homicidal friend grabbed me," he answered. Bruce set him down on the bed for a moment, then scanned the room. He saw the cane laying on the floor just past the doorway and grabbed it, handing it back to Edward without a word. "Thank you," Edward said. "What now?"

"I'm taking you home," Bruce said. "I think you've had enough excitement for one evening."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "The patronizing is not welcome," he said. Then his shoulders slumped. "But you're right. I have things I need to see to tomorrow anyway." He looked back up at Bruce. "This isn't the end of our partnership, is it?"

Bruce should probably say yes. There were still many unanswered questions he had though. And there were things he wanted to know about Edward. "No," he said and a part of him was happy at the look of relief on Edward's face. "I'm not taking you to high rise buildings again though."

Edward shot him a sardonic look. "I am just lucky, I guess."

* * *

 

Instead of an apartment building, Edward directed him back to his office. "Do you live in your office?" Bruce found himself asking as he followed Edward into the building.

"No," Edward answered. "The floor above it. Cramped, but functional." Bruce followed him up the stairs and into a small apartment. Bruce eyed it critically. Cramped was a bit of an understatement. It wasn't quite a studio apartment, as there was a hallway that presumably led to a bedroom and bathroom, but he could barely detect where the boundary lines between the kitchen and the living room. There were unused rooms in Wayne Manor that were bigger than this. 

Edward opened a closet and removed his green jacket before hanging it up. "I really did like that hat," he mourned. "Oh well." He walked past Bruce towards his kitchen. "I need a drink. Do you want anything?"

"No," Bruce answered. "I won't be here long." While Edward was occupied in the kitchen, Bruce's eyes happened to go to his round dining room table. On it was various newspaper clippings, mostly of Thorne and Bruce himself. He raised an eyebrow at the dates on some of the clippings. Just how long had Edward been interested in meeting him? Besides the clippings was an open planner. Bruce could make out a few events in Edward's messy handwriting, but one, in particular, caught his attention. LUNCH WITH KRISTEN. WEDNESDAY, 1:30. That was today's date. Bruce remembered the third set of initials on Edward's whiteboard. K.K. Was this Kristen K.K.? He thought about looking through the planner when he heard Edward's footsteps walking back towards him. Bruce looked up to see the other man running his hand through his now messy auburn hair awkwardly.

"By the way," Edward said. "Thank you. For saving me."

"You're welcome," Bruce said. He turned to leave when Edward's voice called him back. 

"What now?"

Bruce considered this. "I need to speak with Maroni," he said. "When you're up to it, ask your Maroni sources if they've heard anything unusual. If there's any chance Thorne's informants in Maroni's gang are still alive, we need to find them. I'll be in touch."

Edward nodded. "Well...good night then, I guess."

Bruce left without another word.

* * *

 

As soon as he was back in the Batmobile, Bruce radioed Wayne Manor. "Dick? Are you still awake?"

 _"Sleep is overrated,"_  came Dick's reply. _"So. How did the new partner work out?"_

"It was...an interesting experience. There's someone I need you to look up."

_"Shoot."_

"See if you can find any information about a Kristen linked with Edward Nashton." 

 


	8. Kristen Kringle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce discovers who Kristen is and uncovers Edward's possible involvement in an incident from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, both for the delay in getting this out and where we leave off. Next update won't be nearly as long away, I promise.

Dick was sitting in a wheelchair at the Batcomputer when Bruce arrived back at the manor. “Hey,” he said as Bruce approached. “Long night?”

“Very,” Bruce answered, removing his cowl. "How are you feeling?"

Dick shrugged. "Happy that we installed an elevator down to the Batcave. Other than that, mostly bored. I hate having to do research. But enough about me: how was working with the PI?"

Bruce ran his hand through his hair. "Productive. I met a few of Nigma's sources. We found Thorne's mole in Falcone's gang, but the attacker from the hospital got to him before we could."

Dick's mouth drew into a hard line. "He didn't try to blow you guys up, did he?"

"No, but he did throw Nigma off the roof of the building. I took him back to his apartment afterward."

Dick shook his head. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine. His ego's a bit bruised, but he'll live." Bruce decided to leave out the part where he'd had to help him through his panic attack. His privacy deserved to be respected. "I asked him to talk to his Maroni sources. I'll meet up with him again after I talk to the man himself tonight."

Dick turned his chair around to look up at Bruce and he had a bit of a lopsided grin on his face. "Sounds like your partnership's going pretty well. Should I start applying for other costumed gigs?"

Bruce smirked a bit. "You're not getting out of this that easy. Nigma and I will be working together as far as Thorne goes. After that..."Bruce trailed off. Edward was one of the most intelligent, dynamic people Bruce had ever met, even if his ego was grating. He could be a valuable ally. Bruce shook his head. There were still many unanswered questions he had about the man. Too many.

"Speaking of Thorne," Dick asked, "Did you get any info from Nigma about why he hates him so much?"

"Not really. Nigma shut down when I asked about his past at GCPD. There was one thing I learned though: Nigma admitted that Loeb and Thorne did nothing to him personally."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "So Nigma quit GCPD voluntarily? He wasn't fired?"

"That's the impression I have, but there's more to it. I think Loeb, or Thorne, did something to someone else, and that whatever they did pushed Nigma to quit GCPD."

Dick turned his chair around to pull information up on the computer. "Which brings us to what I found. I did a bit of digging on that 'Kristen' person you asked me about and I found a connection. Around the time Nigma worked at GCPD, there was a woman who worked there named Kristen Kringle." Dick clicked on a window that brought up an employment file and a photograph of a bookish-looking young woman with glasses and auburn hair. From her appearance down to the style of her clothing, she could almost pass for Edward's sister. "She worked as Leob's personal secretary during the same time Nigma was in Cyber Crimes. I haven't found any proof that they were friends or anything like that, but they must have known each other at least."

Bruce considered the woman in the photograph. "There was a Kristen in Nigma's calendar. He's meeting with her today. This must be the same woman. What happened to her?"

Dick scrolled down the employment file. "It says she was hospitalized about five years ago, then when she was released, she was fired by Loeb. Check out the date."

Bruce leaned over to get a closer look and saw instantly what Dick was getting at. "She was fired two days before Nigma left GCPD."

"There's something else too," Dick said. "Remember how Loeb finally got busted?"

"Of course," Bruce said. "Evidence about his connection with Thorne was anonymously leaked to members of the media-" Bruce realized with a start. "You suspect Nigma was the leak?"

"Well, it would make sense, wouldn't it? He was in Cyber Crime. It'd be pretty easy for him to do. And the leaks happened six months to the exact day after Kringle was fired."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. First, Edward had Loeb removed, then he began to gather evidence to bring down Thorne himself. And it all started with whatever had happened to Kristen Kringle. He needed to talk to her. "Where is Kringle now?"

Dick pulled up another file. "She works at Social Services now, as a secretary." Dick looked back at Bruce. "No offense, but why does this matter? I don't think she has any connection to Thorne."

"Whatever happened to her is what's driving Nigma to take down Thorne," Bruce said. "I need to know what exactly it was. It's the only way I'll be able to really understand him."

Dick's eyebrows raised. "Wow. He's really gotten under your skin, hasn't he?"

Bruce turned and walked towards the stairs leading up to the Manor proper. "Get some rest. I'll be going to GCPD to talk to Maroni later tonight."

Bruce showered, then staggered into his room at 4 am and collapsed on his bed. He spent another hour thinking over what had happened that night, of another mob boss, of another redhead who had dedicated their life to revenge. He finally fell asleep with a ghost in his mind.

_Andrea..._

* * *

 

Bruce had awoken finally at one pm. He spent a few hours at Wayne Manor doing additional research on the leaks that had brought down Loeb, while Dick was recuperating under Alfred's strict orders. Dick was right. Edward was the best suspect for it. Bruce sighed. He wanted to believe that Edward hadn't intended for Loeb to get killed, that he was simply too blinded by anger to fully think through the potential consequences of what he'd done. He sighed. He'd need to confront Edward about it, sooner or later. He then spent a few minutes looking up additional information about Kristen Kringle, including her address. After he was finished at GCPD, he would speak to her. He needed to know what had happened to make Edward the man he was. Only then, could he decide if he could trust the man. At 6 pm, just as the sun began to dip down, Bruce left Wayne Manor and headed to GCPD. First, Maroni.

* * *

 

Bruce arrived at his favorite corner to park the Batmobile at a quarter to seven, then, as he'd done hundreds of times by now, he grappled his way up to the window that would lead him into Gordon's office. Gordon was standing in front of his desk, speaking to Bullock and Montoya. None of them noticed him as he lingered outside, listening in on their conversation.

"...Maroni's still lawyered up, Commish. He's refusing to talk to us. He's making noise about filing a suit against us for false imprisonment if we don't let him leave."

Bruce watched Gordon's shoulders sag. "You did tell him what happened to Falcone last night, right Bullock?"

"We did! He said he could take care of himself!"

"Couldn't we hold him as a material witness?" Montoya asked.

"Problem is, he's got a rock solid alibi for the bombings and the attack on Falcone. We can't prove he witnessed anything. Not to mention his mob shark lawyer will see through that.'

Bullock huffed. "Great. What do you want us to do?"

"Just keep investigating the bombing. I'll see if I can find a way to make Maroni more cooperative." Bruce waited for Bullock and Montoya to leave Gordon's office, then opened the window and let himself in.

"And just how long were you hanging around out there?" Gordon asked, not turning around.

"Long enough," Bruce answered. "Maroni won't cooperate?"

Gordon sighed. "No. He trusts us about as far as he can throw us. What have you found out on your end?"

"Maroni and Falcone were putting a truce together. Falcone told me at the hospital that he and Maroni were going to enter an alliance to fight Thorne."

Gordon turned then, walking back towards his desk. "So that's more evidence that Thorne was behind the murders. He must have gotten wind of it, somehow and tried to take them down before they could get to him."

"Thorne has moles in both organizations," Bruce added. "I managed to find out who his mole was with Falcone, but the man who attacked Falcone killed him before I could bring him in."

"Damn," Gordon muttered. "How'd you manage to find him in the first place?"

Bruce paused before speaking. "I'm working with Edward Nigma."

Gordon's jaw dropped. "Edward? He's investigating this with you?" Then Gordon slowly smiled. "I'll be damned. I knew the cop was still in him, deep down. He still as abrasive as ever?"

"You could say that," Bruce said. "Jim, there are a few things I need to ask you about him."

"Ask away."

"Do you recall him being friends with a woman named Kristen Kringle?"

The smile on Gordon's face quickly faded. "Kristen...Yes, they were close. She was his best friend in GCPD, actually." Gordon shook his head. "Damn shame."

"What happened to her? I read in her file that she was fired after a hospitalization."

Gordon sighed. "She claimed that she fell down stairs."

"And Loeb fired her for that?"

Gordon shook his head. "No. That wasn't the first time she'd missed work because she was hospitalized. A few months before, she'd broken her wrist. Said she'd fallen off her bicycle. A few months before that, she came to work with a black eye. Said she'd been mugged."

Bruce didn't need to be a detective to see what had happened. "She was being abused."

Gordon nodded. "A few of the other cops, myself included, tried to talk to her, tried to get her to tell us who he was, to press charges. She wouldn't say a word. She was scared stiff."

Bruce remembered what he'd uncovered about Edward's past, and what Veronica told him he'd done for a client. He must have been furious. "What did Nigma do?"

"He tried to talk to her too. I'm not sure if she ever confided in him. They were both gone before I could ask."

Edward had left GCPD after Kringle was hospitalized after he'd had an argument with Loeb. He'd probably tried to argue for her reinstatement, was shut down and quit in protest, then took down Loeb in revenge. But then why was he targeting Thorne-

Bruce realized the answer in a moment. _You found out who it was, didn't you Edward? And why Kristen was so scared, why Loeb really fired her._ He needed to talk to Kringle to confirm it, but now, he felt confident in the answer. "There's another thing, Jim. The leaks that came about Loeb. They happened six months to the date after Kringle was fired." Gordon said nothing, but the look on his face told Bruce everything. "You suspected Nigma, didn't you?"

"Yes," Gordon admitted. "We could never prove anything though, and it's not like there was a shortage of other suspects. I didn't want to officially arrest him either, especially after Loeb died. If Thorne or his cronies found out who it was that had exposed Loeb-"

"Then his life would be in danger," Bruce finished. That would explain partially at least, why Edward had changed his last name as well. Bruce remembered what had happened the previous night and clenched his fist. That wouldn't happen again. "Thank you, Jim."

Gordon shrugged. "Don't mention it. I wonder though. Now that we know about the moles, maybe we could use that as leverage to get Maroni to talk."

"It's worth a shot," Bruce said. "Let me try to talk to him."

"His lawyer won't like that," Gordon warned. "But, he's right now getting dinner for his client before he takes him back home. You have twenty minutes."

"That's all I need."

* * *

 

As expected, Bruce's presence in the interrogation room did wonders for Maroni's cooperation. The normally self-assured, oily mobster's face paled when Bruce informed him about the possible presence of a mole in his organization. "So...Thorne's got guys in my crew?"

"Probably," Bruce said. "He had one in Falcone's. That's how he found out about your meeting. That's also how he might have found out where your lieutenants were and when to strike at them."

Maroni's shocked face gave way to a look of irritation. "So. You know all of this. What do you need me here for?"

Bruce pounded his fist on the interrogation table. "Think, Maroni! Falcone was attacked in his hospital bed! If you're on the outside, how long until Thorne sends someone after you as well?"

Maroni's face paled once again, both at the implication and at Bruce's act of violence. He sighed. "Alright. Alright. Fine. What do you want from me?"

"Who in your crew knew about your meeting with Falcone?"

"No one," Maroni answered. "Not even my lieutenants. I took a cab to the meeting place. Didn't want to risk one of the hotheads in my ranks blowing it."

"And your lieutenants?" Bruce asked. "Who knew where they were going to be that night?"

Maroni thought a bit. "I knew, of course. And I'm sure they told their wives where they were going to be. I don't know who else they might have told though. When I didn't need them for anything, they did their own thing."

Edward had commented about how ill-disciplined Maroni's gang was, and from his experience, Bruce believed it. How much violence had been caused over the years simply because Maroni was so hands-off with his crew? "So really, there could be any number of leaks in your organization and you wouldn't know about it."

Maroni gave Bruce a dark look. "I've lasted as long as I have in this city, haven't I?"

"And what do you have to show for it?" Bruce asked archly. He got up from his seat at the table and walked towards the interrogation door. "Good night, Sal."

"What about protection?" Maroni asked.

"Take that up with Gordon," Bruce said, not looking behind him as he opened the door and left the room. He noticed Gordon standing by the door. He'd been there the whole time, watching their conversation. "I think we've gotten all the useful information we're going to get out of him."

Gordon nodded. "At least now he's taking this a bit more seriously. Where are you going now?"

"I have a lead I need to follow up on. I'll be in touch."

* * *

 

Kristen Kringle lived in a modest renovated apartment building in Park Row, not too far from where Edward lived. Bruce actually drove past his building on his way to Kringle's. As he waited at a red light just at the intersection in front of the building, he looked up to see that his light was on. For a moment, he considered stopping by to check up on him. The light turned green and he drove on. Until he spoke to Kringle, he didn't think he could speak to the man without asking some very pointed questions. His hands clenched around the steering wheel of the Batmobile as he drove on. "I want to believe the best of you," he murmured. "I want to trust you. Why can't I?"

Because he'd trusted Harvey. He'd been best friends with Harvey. He'd believed in Harvey. And Harvey was now in a cell in Arkham. He'd trusted Andrea once too. He'd loved Andrea. He'd been ready to walk away from this life entirely for her. And God only knew where she was now, how many more lives she'd taken. He shook his head. Dick was right. Edward had really gotten under his skin, in such a short period of time. How had that happened? "Focus," he murmured. This could wait. He needed to talk to Kringle. Then he'd talk to Edward, they'd solve the case and Bruce could put this behind him.

Kringle's building came up on his left and Bruce pulled into an adjacent alleyway and parked the Batmobile. He exited the car and walked on foot towards the apartment building. After what she'd been through, Kringle deserved better than to have him break into her apartment through her window. It was a simple matter to get in. The building had only a basic locked front door for security and it took mere moments for Bruce to pick the lock. The apartment building was as desolate as the one last night had been, he noticed. He was on guard as he walked up the stairs to Kringle's third-floor apartment. He'd been caught off guard twice already on this case. There wouldn't be a third time. 

Kringle's apartment was at the foot of the stairs. Bruce detected that there was a light still on inside and he faintly heard the sound of a television. He raised his hand to knock at her door, then hesitated. Edward would be angry with him, going behind his back to interrogate a friend of his. Bruce's face hardened. He needed to know the truth. He knocked on the door.

"Who's there? Eddie?" A woman's voice answered from inside. The door opened and Bruce came face to face with the woman from the GCPD photograph Dick had shown him. She was dressed in a light blue bathrobe, still wearing her glasses. Her jaw dropped when she saw him fully. "Oh my!"

"Are you Kristen Kringle?" Bruce asked.

Kringle nodded. "Yes." She let out a short, nervous laughter. "Eddie told me you were working together. He actually offered to introduce us. I didn't think it would be tonight."

"He doesn't know I'm here," Bruce answered. "May I come in?"

Kringle moved to the side and gestured him to come in. "I'm sorry, my apartment's a bit of a mess right now-"

"That's fine," Bruce said, entering her apartment. It was small, smaller than Edward's even, though not as well kept. He heard Kringle shut the door behind him.

"So," she asked. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to ask you some questions about Edward."

Kringle's eyes went from curious, to sad. "What do you need to know?"


	9. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finally learns the story of Edward's past.

Bruce waited until Kringle took a seat at her small kitchen table before he began. "I'd like you to tell me about your past together at GCPD."

Kringle nodded. "I got the job as Loeb's secretary about seven years ago. Eddie was working in Cyber Crimes then." She let out a small laugh. "We met in the break room one day. He took a look at my nametag and asked me if I was planning to become a Santa themed supervillain."

"Charming," Bruce said.

"He was a bit awkward, but he was a friendly guy," she added. "He also was one of the only men who wouldn't badger me for a date. We became friends pretty quickly. He used to come by my desk to talk to me about whatever case he was working on, or to gossip about one of the other officers." A wistful smile came over her face. "We used to have a lot of fun, before-" her voice trailed off and she looked down at her hands.

"What happened?" Bruce asked gently.

Kringle played with the sleeve of her robe, then sighed. "About six months before Eddie and I left GCPD, I began dating a patrol officer named Tom Dougherty. He was charming, handsome, funny...I thought I'd really met someone special. He and Eddie though...they didn't like each other. Eddie didn't think anyone was good enough for me, but he really, really didn't like Officer Dougherty. I thought he was just a bit jealous. Dougherty didn't like the idea of me having a male best friend, so he asked me to stop hanging around Eddie so much." Kringle shook her head. "I should have left him then, but...I thought I was in love with him. I thought given a bit of time, he and Eddie could get along. As soon as I did though, Dougherty changed. He started getting angry if I worked late, he demanded to see my phone, he kept track of me when I was out. Then one night, he grabbed my wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. He apologized and brought me flowers. I forgave him. Two weeks later, he slapped me. He apologized and bought me a bracelet. I forgave him again." Kringle removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I know," she said, putting her glasses back on. "I was stupid."

"No," Bruce said. In his time on the streets, he'd encountered dozens of people like Kristen Kringle. Too many. "That's the cycle of abuse. It can happen to anyone."

Kringle nodded. "I wanted to leave him so many times. One night, I almost did. I had the things I kept at his house packed up and I was almost out the door when he told me who he really worked for."

Bruce's suspicions were confirmed. "Rupert Thorne?"

Kringle nodded again. "He said that he was on Thorne's payroll as eyes and ears in GCPD. That he got thousands of dollars to help Thorne out, to look the other way on the streets." Her eyes welled up. "He said that if I left him, he could arrange it so that no one would ever find my body, and he'd get away with it. That he'd kill everyone I cared about. He threatened Eddie. I felt trapped."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "That's why you didn't tell anyone."

"I wanted to, but I was afraid. Once Dougherty thought he had me, things got worse. He started beating me more often. He didn't care if he left bruises on my face anymore. I had to lie to so many people at work, I had to take time off to go to doctors. One day after I got back, Loeb called me into his office to talk to me about my absences. I broke down in his office and told him. I thought if anyone could help me, the police commissioner could."

"But he didn't?" Bruce asked.

Kringle shook her head. "When I told him Officer Dougherty was the one who was abusing me, he lost all interest. He told me that I needed to 'keep my personal affairs from interfering with my duties'. Then he dismissed me. I think I always suspected that Loeb was on someone's payroll. That day, I knew for sure he was on Thorne's. I ran from the commissioner's office to the bathroom and locked myself in, to make sure no one could see me crying." She paused for a moment. "When I came out, Eddie was there. I don't know how much he saw or overheard, but it was the saddest I'd ever seen him. He begged me to tell him what was going on so he could help me. That he knew what I was going through. I told him everything."

Bruce could only imagine how furious Edward must have been. "What did he do?"

"He told me to go home. He said that he'd handle Dougherty. I went straight to my apartment, but Dougherty was already there. He was screaming at me, saying that I'd ruined everything. Then he shoved me down the stairs. I woke up in the hospital, three days later. Eddie was sleeping in a chair by the bed. When I woke up, he couldn't look me in the eyes. He seemed ashamed. When I asked him what was wrong, he said that it was his fault, but that he'd make it right. I asked him again what he meant and he told me that after we'd talked in the bathroom, he'd hacked into Dougherty's bank accounts and found out that he was skimming off from Thorne. He threatened Dougherty that unless he left me alone, he'd expose him."

"And then Dougherty threw you down the stairs," Bruce said. Edward shouldn't have done that. He should have gone directly to Gordon. Bruce could have gotten involved at that point. Maybe all of this could have been prevented then. 

"I never blamed Eddie," Kringle continued. "I know he was only trying to help me, but he blamed himself. He still does, after all these years. Anyway, after I got out of the hospital, Loeb fired me. He said that I clearly couldn't handle the responsibility of the position." She sighed. "To tell the truth, I was ready to leave after everything. Eddie was furious though. He told me that he went in to get Loeb to reconsider, but that he wouldn't budge."

"And that was when he quit?"

"Yes," Kringle said. "I didn't want him to. He loved what he did so much, and he could do so much good, but he told me that he refused to support a corrupt puppet like Loeb for another second. That one way or another, he was going to make Loeb and Thorne pay for what they'd allowed to happen to me."

"Then evidence pointing to Loeb possibly being connected to Thorne was leaked," Bruce said. "Did Edward tell you that he'd done it?"

Kringle looked up at Bruce with a hardened look on her face. "I'm not going to turn on Eddie-"

"I'm not trying to get Edward in trouble," Bruce clarified. If any crime had been committed, the statute of limitations had long expired. "I've seen how determined he is to take down Thorne. All I wanted was to understand why."

Kringle's face softened and she continued. "Eddie thought that if Loeb was facing jail time, that he'd turn on Thorne and that they'd both go down. He didn't think Loeb would get killed. When that happened, I think something inside of him broke a little bit. He swore that no matter how long it took, no matter what he had to do, he'd take down Rupert Thorne."

Thus the information network. Bruce had seen for himself just how close Edward was to blackmailing his targets. He was already so close to a dark precipice. One sharp shove.."And what about Officer Dougherty?"

Kringle shrugged. "He disappeared after he pushed me down the stairs. I think what Eddie did really scared him. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

There was a pause as Bruce processed all of the information Kringle had told him. He had no reason to think she was lying. "How often do you see Edward now?"

"Not as often as I'd like," Kringle said. "He spends almost all of his time on his cases or investigating Thorne. It's become an obsession for him. I try to help him out as much as I can, but he doesn't want me to be involved."

"Help him out?" Bruce repeated. "How?" He remembered that Kringle's initials were under the pictures of Maroni's men on Edward's whiteboard. Was she a source?

Kringle's face took on a determined expression. "There's a lot I hear about what goes on on the streets at my new job. I send some women who need the extra help Edward's way." She twirled a lock of hair with her finger. "There's something else too. A few nights ago, we had a woman come into our office looking for help. She said that her boyfriend was involved with something illegal. That he was going to kill people. My boss told her to go to the police. That night, Maroni's restaurant was blown up."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. He remembered at the scene that night, Montoya had said that the 911 call that alerted GCPD about the bombing had come from a woman. This woman must be the witness. "Did you tell Edward this?"

Kringle nodded. "Today at lunch. I wanted to bring her to him, but Eddie refused. He said that he'd find some other way to find the killer. That he'd already put me in too much danger." Kringle sighed, then removed her glasses again. This time, however, she reached up to wipe her eyes. "Five years, and he still blames himself for what happened to me. I know he acts all arrogant and self-centered, but there's a part of him that hates himself. There always has been. It's just gotten worse in the last few years."

Bruce believed he was beginning to finally understand Edward now. The persona, the reason he changed his name, the drive. It was a front. A front to cover up the deep shame he felt for failing to protect his friend. _I'll help you, Edward,_ he thought. _I'll help you put an end to this. Once and for all, before you lose yourself completely._

"Batman?"

Bruce mentally shook himself out of his thoughts and looked back at Kringle. She looked at him with a plaintive look in her eyes. "Please, let me help. Thorne and men like him have pushed me and other people around long enough. I want to take him down too."

"Miss Kringle," he said. "This is dangerous." Edward would be furious enough when he found out Bruce had spoken to her. If he let her get involved-she already was involved. And she knew someone who could tell them who Thorne's hired killer was. "There is a way you can help though. Tell me, who was the woman who approached you?"

Kringle bit her lip. "I'm not sure where she is," she said. "But I can get her number. I can have her meet us here. She's too scared to go anywhere else."

Bruce nodded. "Thank you, Miss Kringle."

"Will you do something for me?"

Bruce nearly raised an eyebrow under his cowl. "Yes?" 

Kringle's face was soft and her hazel eyes watery. "Promise me you'll look after Eddie. He's so focused on bringing down Thorne...he told me about what happened when you two tried to talk to Falcone's driver. I'm afraid he'll actually get killed next time. He's the smartest man I've ever met, but he doesn't think about consequences. He doesn't care if he risks his own life."

"That won't happen again," Bruce said darkly. "I'll protect him, Miss Kringle. I promise." For Edward's sake, for her's, and, Bruce allowed himself to admit, for himself as well.

Kringle smiled. "Thank you." She laughed a bit, shaking her head. "It's funny. When we were in GCPD, Eddie spent a lot of time talking about you. Who you really were, what your tactics were, whether you were one person or a lot of people, anything. He used to hang around crime scenes a little while longer, to see if he could catch sight of you."

"He's told me how much he wanted to test his intellect against me," Bruce said, looking awkwardly at his feet. That's all it was.

Kringle shook her head. "There's more to it than that, I think. He really does admire how much you do to help this city. You should have heard him at lunch today." She laughed a bit and then said the words Bruce feared hearing. "I think he's a bit in love with you."

* * *

Edward's light was still on when Bruce parked the Batmobile in the alleyway next to his building. He hesitated for a moment, looking up at the window. He'd finally gotten the answers to the questions that had haunted him about Edward from the first moment he'd laid eyes on him at Veronica's party. Yet it felt like he'd gone too far, that he knew things about him that he was never meant to know. Edward would be angry. Edward may not want to continue to work with him. Only one way to find out. Bruce aimed his grappling hook at the fire escape and fired. In a moment, he was at Edward's window, just as he'd been two nights earlier. Had it only been two nights ago? It seemed longer.

Just as he had been the first night Bruce approached him, Edward was standing in front of his whiteboard. He was casually dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks, his green jacket hung up on the coat rack by the door. For a moment, Bruce stared at him as he looked over the photographs pinned on the board. He looked back to his polished self after the events of the previous evening. Finally, Bruce slowly opened the windowsill and entered the office. Edward didn't turn as he entered the office. After Bruce had taken two steps, Edward spoke. "I was hoping you'd come tonight." Edward turned then and Bruce's heart clenched as he saw how genuinely happy he looked to see him. "I heard you the instant you landed on my fire escape. You have a very distinct sound I've noticed."

"Have you now?" Bruce asked. It would be so easy to just go on as they had before, to pretend that he hadn't spoken to Kristen Kringle. He couldn't look at the man and his cocky grin now and not see what lay behind it. "How are you feeling?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "Better. Nothing a few hours of uninterrupted sleep couldn't fix." Bruce noticed his face flush just a bit. "Did you come by just to check up on me?"

"I spoke to Maroni tonight," Bruce said, getting back to the business at hand. "He didn't know about any moles in his organization. He also didn't inform anyone of his meeting with Falcone."

"I can't say I'm too surprised," Edward answered. "Maroni's gang is about as well disciplined as a kindergarten. In the meantime, I've gone through my old police files to see if I can find anyone with a resemblance to our friend from last night."

"Did you find anything?"

Edward's shoulders sagged a bit. "Nothing. Either Thorne's hired someone from out of town, or he managed to find someone who doesn't have a criminal record yet."

Bruce had done a bit of digging himself in the hours before he'd gone to GCPD and come to with the same conclusion. Now for the moment of truth. "How about your Maroni sources? Did you talk to them today?"

Edward's face fell slightly. "I did," he said. Bruce watched as he looked down at his feet quickly, his eyes shifting to the left. "Nothing to report on that front. Anyway, I don't think we should spend any more time flushing out moles. We should take a look through the FBI database-"

Bruce took a step forward. Edward stopped thinking and his eyes widened the closer Bruce came. "Edward," Bruce said. "This partnership will only work if we're completely honest with each other."

Edward scowled. "What exactly are you implying?" he asked. "I'm not holding back any information from you! Now, will you please take a step back and let me work?" He turned back to the whiteboard and made a show out of examining the photographs tacked on. Bruce tried not to sigh. Edward was indeed very clever, but he was a horrible liar.

"Edward," Bruce spoke again. "I spoke to Kristen tonight."

Edward dropped the pen he was holding and Bruce heard it fall to the ground. He turned to face Bruce and his face was as white as his shirt. "Kristen-you talked to-how did you even find her?" His face flushed and he jabbed his finger at him. "Did you follow me today!?"

"No," Bruce answered. "I saw her name in your calendar last night and did a bit of digging. You had her initials on your whiteboard under the names of Maroni's men. I thought she might be a source." Bruce watched as Edward's mouth opened, then closed again. He continued, "She told me about the woman who called GCPD about the Maroni bombing."

Edward shook his head. "I told her I didn't want her to get involved in this," he said softly, more to himself than to Bruce. "Why would she tell you-"

"She wants to help you, Edward." Bruce took another step forward. He was standing directly in front of Edward now. He was close enough that he could reach out and touch the man's face if he wanted to. "She also told me about what happened to her and why you left GCPD."

Edward's face crumpled at that. "She-no. Oh no..."Edward took his face into his hands and turned his back on Bruce. This was just embarrassment at having been found out, Bruce realized. This was shame.

"I understand why you're so driven to take down Thorne. But Edward, you don't have to do it alone. Kristen wants to help you." Bruce reached out to touch Edward's shoulder. "I want to help you, Edward."

As soon as Bruce's gloved hand made contact, Edward startled and nearly shoved Bruce back. His face was twisted in anger now, but what Bruce noticed were the tears coming out of his eyes.

"Don't you dare touch me," he hissed. "How _dare_ you. You pried into my life, humiliated me in my own office, and now you have the nerve to condescend to me!?" He took a shuddering breath. "Are you happy seeing me reduced to this? Was this what you really wanted all along, to see me debased?"

Bruce knew Edward would be angry, but this..."No, Edward. That wasn't what I wanted at all. I wanted-" he sighed. "I wanted to understand you. The real you. Not 'Edward Nigma, Private Investigator.' Edward Nashton."

"Edward Nashton?" Edward repeated. "You want to know who Edward Nashton was? Fine, I'll tell you. He was an idiot. An arrogant little moron who tried to do the right thing all his life, and what did he have to show for it? His parents wished he never existed, he lost his career, and he couldn't protect the person he loved like his own sister! He couldn't even take down Loeb without getting him killed!" His breath hitched and he looked up at Bruce with glassy green eyes. "He was a failure. Is that what you wanted to know?"

Kringle was right, Bruce thought. Underneath the arrogance, the smarm, the smart green business suits, there was a core of self-loathing. Guilt overcame Bruce as he saw this. He reached out again to cup Edward's face. The man nearly jumped and his face turned a bright red, but he didn't say anything. "You're wrong," Bruce said as gently as he could. "Edward Nashton wasn't a failure. He was a good man who got in over his head." Edward's breath hitched again and Bruce used his fingers to brush away the fresh tears that fell down his face. "I think you still are a good man, Edward. I think you've become so focused on Thorne that you've lost sight of that. What happened to Kristen wasn't your fault. Don't let your guilt and your hatred destroy you." Not like it had Andrea. Not like it threatened to do to him every single night.

Edward turned away then and looked down at the floor. "Leave. Please. Just leave me alone."

Reluctantly, Bruce withdrew his hand and walked back towards the window. When he opened the windowsill, he took one last look at Edward. The man was still standing where Bruce had left him, still looking at his feet. Without another word, Bruce left the office and went back into the cold Gotham night.


	10. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce realizes that he has come to genuinely care for Edward when the case takes a dramatic turn.

As a rule, Bruce would not go to bed right after returning from a night out on patrol, save for occasions where he was completely emotionally and physically drained. Instead, he would spend additional hours in front of the Bat Computer, reviewing evidence from cases or scouring police reports. Tonight was no exception. As soon as he'd arrived, he'd waved off Alfred's offers of dinner and tea and headed straight to the computer. Instead of evidence, however, Bruce had pulled up the file he'd put together on Edward in the last few days. He'd spent the last hour looking at the old file photo of Edward. Tonight, he paid attention to the date it had been taken. Six years ago. Before Dougherty, before Thorne, before he'd decided to throw himself into a life of subterfuge, of vengeance, of obsession, of feeling the need to prove his own worth. Bruce looked into the eyes of the man in the still picture. Was that the last time Edward had been truly happy? Had Edward ever really been happy? Bruce sighed, then closed the picture. With Kristen's story and his own encounter with the man, a complete picture had formed of who Edward Nigma-Nashton-was, and it wasn't what Bruce had expected when he first met him.

He'd meant what he said to Edward that night though. Underneath the ego, the flash, the green suits, and smug smirks, there was a good man. Sometime in the past five years, Edward had lost sight of that, or perhaps he'd never believed himself to be such. Perhaps once this case was closed, once Thorne was behind bars, Edward would be able to find that man in himself again. Bruce's thoughts darkened. Or maybe, he'd find some other person, or case to occupy his time. Maybe he wouldn't be able to give up the persona of Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. After all, no amount of criminals Bruce had ever brought in were enough to make him walk away from the life he had chosen for himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, he and Edward were alike in that regard.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

Bruce turned in his chair to see Alfred standing behind him, concern etched on his face. "You've been at the computer since you came home and I notice you haven't actually been doing any work on it. What happened tonight?"

Bruce got out of his chair. "I spoke to an old friend of Nigma's tonight, from when he was in GCPD." He walked past Alfred, towards the case where he kept his cape and cowls hung up. He removed his cowl in one movement. "She told me why he's so determined to take him down."

"Oh?" Alfred asked. 

Bruce opened the glass case and hung his cape and cowl on the stand inside. "It's revenge. Years ago, Nigma's friend was in an abusive relationship with an enforcer of Thorne's who was on the police force. Loeb knew and did nothing. Nigma was the one who leaked the evidence that Loeb was in bed with the mob."

"My word," Alfred murmured. "And what are you going to do with this information?"

"I spoke to Nigma about it tonight."

"And how did he react?"

Bruce closed the case. "Not well."

"I see." Alfred paused for a moment before he spoke again. "Forgive me for being bold, Master Bruce, but I'm not quite sure how you expected him to react."

Bruce turned from the case to look at Alfred with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, from what you've told me about the man and what I've observed from the news, he's very much wrapped up in the persona of being a genius private detective. You're telling him that you know what lies underneath that persona must have made him feel vulnerable. In that situation, some people lash out. Add that to the fact that you spoke to a friend of his behind his back and he must feel betrayed, by you and by her."

Bruce felt his stomach drop a bit. Kringle...he hadn't even considered that. He may have very well compromised one of the few positive relationships Edward had. "I needed to know," he said.

"For the case, Sir, or for yourself?"

"For the case," Bruce insisted. He stalked over to a drawer and took off his utility belt. "If I was going to work with the man, I needed to know exactly who I was dealing with and what he might be capable of."

"And who exactly is Edward Nigma?"

He put the belt in his drawer and closed it hard. "He's a good man, Alfred, but he's in danger. He takes too many liberties, he doesn't think through the consequences of what he does. He's going to lose himself to this obsession with Thorne if he doesn't get himself killed first."

"And what are you going to do about that, Master Bruce?"

Bruce clenched his fist and thought about Harvey, about Andrea. "I'm not going to let that happen," he said. "I'm going to bring down Thorne before it's too late for him."

There was a long pause before Alfred spoke again. "This Edward Nigma has made quite the impression on you, hasn't he Sir?"

Bruce didn't respond to that, instead walking up the long staircase that led out of the cave and to the manor proper. All the while, Kringle's words echoed in his head. 

_I think he's a little bit in love with you._

* * *

 

Before he'd left Kringle's apartment the previous evening, she had told him to return, that she'd have the woman who'd made the 911 call about the Maroni bombing. Exactly twenty-four hours later, he was back in Kringle's apartment building, walking up the stairs to her door. This time, however, before he knocked, he heard raised voices. He reflexively reached for a Batarang, when he recognized the voices as Kringle and Edward. He paused to listen.

 _"I told you, I didn't want you to be involved in this!"_ That was Edward. Kringle's voice soon followed, just as upset.

_"I was the one who spent three weeks in the hospital! I already am involved! You can't keep doing this alone, Eddie! You're going to get killed!"_

_"Oh, was that why you told **him** everything!? How could you do that to me!?"_

_"He can help, Eddie! Just let him in! Isn't that what you always wanted?"_

This was enough. Bruce knocked on the door. Almost immediately, he heard Edward's voice again.

_"Oh God, he's here, isn't he?"_

Bruce sighed. Kringle apparently hadn't told either man the other would be here. Terrific. In the next moment, she opened the door. "Hi," she said without an ounce of embarrassment. "Please, come in."

Bruce walked into the apartment and immediately caught sight of Edward, standing still by Kringle's dining room table. He was dressed in his usual green suit and contrasted to Kringle, his face was flush.

"Hello, Edward," Bruce said.

Edward made no response, choosing to look at his dress shoes. Bruce took a quick look around the apartment and realized that they weren't alone. Sitting on Kringle's couch with wide brown eyes, was a young woman, maybe a few years younger than Edward and Kringle. The poor girl probably had a front-row view of their argument. Kringle quickly walked up to Bruce and gestured to the woman. "This is Vicki. She's the woman who approached me at Social Services the day the Maroni restaurant was bombed."

Bruce nodded, then slowly approached the still seated Vicki. "Is that true?" he asked her.

Vicki nodded. "Yes." She looked at Bruce with wide eyes. "You can protect me, can't you?"

"Of course," Bruce said. "May I sit down?"

Vicki nodded, then scooted a bit to the side to allow Bruce to join her on the small sofa. Once Bruce was seated, she began to speak.

"There's this guy I've been seeing for a few months," she said, running a hand through her curly black hair. "His name's Brent. Brent O'Reilly. We met at the grocery store in my neighborhood in the Lower West Side."

"Go on," Bruce said.

Vicki wet her lip. "We didn't see that much of each other because he was always busy. Sometimes, I wouldn't see or hear from him for days.  He said that he worked as a courier, but he always seemed to have a lot of cash whenever we went out on dates. He almost never let me come over to his place either, unless he had advanced warning. I didn't think anything of it, until a few days ago."

"What happened?" Edward asked. He'd come a few steps closer to the couch, but he was making sure to address Vicki and not look at Bruce at all.

Vicki took a deep breath. "I decided to swing by his apartment as a surprise for our six month anniversary. When I got there, I saw him talking to some people in front of his door. A man and a woman. I got a bit closer and I heard parts of it. The woman gave him a big envelope of cash and told him to go to a restaurant in the Bowery."

"Maroni's restaurant," Edward said. "What else did this woman say?"

"She said that he'd get half now, half when the job was done. Then they left. I had to dart behind a wall to make sure they didn't see me when they were coming out. I went up to Brent and he was happy to see me. He acted like nothing had happened." She looked down and played with the hem of her skirt. "I knew then, that he was some kind of crook, but I really liked him. I thought maybe at worst, at worst, he was a thief."

"When did you find out otherwise?" Edward asked.

Vicki sighed. "That night, after we...celebrated...I had to get up to use the restroom. He was asleep the whole time. I was walking back when I decided to get an extra blanket from his hall closet. Only, it wasn't a closet. It was like a study. There was a whiteboard in the room, with photographs of people tacked up on it. There was also a bunch of electrical stuff in the room and there were pipes around. I leaned in to get a closer look at one and I realized that it was a bomb. I went back into the bedroom to grab my things and he woke up."

"Did he hurt you?" Bruce asked.

"No!" Vicki yelled. "No," she said again. "He didn't know what I was up to. I work as a nurse, so I just told him that 'd gotten a page from work and that I had to go in. He believed me. He said he was going to be busy the next few days, but that he'd call when he could see me again. That was the last time I spoke to him. I didn't know what to do, so I went to the social services desk to ask for help."

"Why didn't you go to the police?" Bruce asked. Behind him, he heard Edward scoff. 

"Right, because as past history has shown, they would have leaped at the chance to bring in one of Thorne's enforcers!"

"Eddie," Kringle scolded. "Let her answer."

"No, he's right," Vicki said. "GCPD doesn't do anything in my neighborhood. I was afraid that they wouldn't believe me, or that someone would come after me. The day I went to social services, I decided to go back to Brent's apartment. I thought maybe I could talk him out of it. Just as I was driving in though, I saw his car pulling out, so I followed him. He went into the Bowery and pulled up alongside an Italian restaurant. I saw him get out of the car, then throw something into the window and drive off. Maybe a few seconds later, the restaurant blew up. I called 911, then went back home. The next day, I went back to social services, and Kristen here pulled me aside. I told her what I'd seen and she said she knew someone who could help me." She laughed a bit, then looked back up at Bruce. "I didn't think she meant you."

"She didn't," Edward said. He brushed off his sleeves. "Now," he said almost mechanically, all traces of his usual charm and bravado gone, "that address?"

Vicki blinked, then nodded. "4546 W. Grace St, Apt. 12." She bit her lip, then said, "You know, he's not crazy."

"Of course not," Edward chuckled. "He only murdered or attempted to murder ten people in the last three days. Thank you, miss. I'll handle it from here." 

"We'll handle it from here," Bruce corrected, getting off the sofa. Edward made eye contact with for the first time since he walked into the apartment and Bruce was taken aback by the anger that emanated from the man. Edward said nothing in response but walked purposefully towards the door.

"Eddie-" Kringle started to say, but Edward walked past her and out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. She turned to Bruce with pleading eyes.

"I'll get him," he said. "Thank you again." He turned to Vicki before he left. "Don't go home. Stay here until we come back." Then he followed Edward out of the apartment.

Edward was on the street and halfway to his car by the time Bruce made it out of the building. "Where are you going?" Bruce called after him.

"Where does it look like?" Edward snapped. "I'm going to get our killer."

"Not by yourself, you're not."

"I don't need you to babysit me!"

"He's already tried to kill you once."

"Likewise!"

Bruce had caught up to Edward now. He gently, but firmly laid a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Edward," he said in a low voice. "Don't let your pride get you killed."

Edward turned and glared at him, shaking his hand off. "You know," he said. "I think I liked it better when you called me 'Nigma'. It felt more honest. You can stop pretending you care about me."

"Edward-" Bruce said, then stopped. The other man looked almost hopeful for a brief moment before his mouth settled into a hard line. "We'll take my car. It will be less dangerous."

"Fine," Edward said tersely. "Just fine."

* * *

 

Bruce had half a mind to lock Edward in the Batmobile once they arrived at the apartment complex, but the other man would not be denied his chance to get one of Thorne's enforcers. "Follow my lead," Bruce said as they entered the rundown building. "We could be walking into a death trap."

Edward huffed. It was the most he'd said to Bruce since their conversation in front of Kringle's building. Bruce didn't have the time to be irritated by it now. They were just in front of apartment 12. Bruce could see light coming from under the door. Hopefully, that meant that O'Reilly was home. Bruce reached into his utility belt to pull out a lock picker and got to work unlocking the door. As soon as the lock was picked, he slowly, cautiously pushed it open. There was no sign of anyone in the living room, but he pulled a batarang out, just in case. He took a step inside, then gestured to Edward. "Stay behind me."

If O'Reilly was indeed working for Thorne, then either he wasn't being paid well or he put his money to other uses, as the apartment was cramped and messy, dishes left out on the table and kitchen counters to the left and articles of clothing and strewn papers on the floor to the right. As the two men made their way through the apartment, no noise could be heard. Maybe O'Reilly was out after all. Maybe. Bruce kept a sharp eye out just in case. He'd been caught off guard before twice. There wouldn't be a third time. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just see Edward keeping a tight grip on his cane as he followed him into the apartment. 

The two of them were halfway down the hall between the living room and the bedroom when they heard a shuffling noise coming from a room to their right. They paused. Bruce realized that this must be the study that Vicki had told them about. A light was just visible coming from beneath the door, He was in there. Bruce kicked down the door. In the center of the room, sitting at a desk, was the blond man from the hospital and from Cragen's apartment. "Brent O'Reilly?" Bruce called out.

The blond man turned slowly. "I thought you might find me."

Bruce raised his right hand, the hand that held the Batarang. "Hands up! Now!"

O'Reilly smirked, then slowly raised his hands. "Sure. No problem." His slate grey eyes looked past Bruce to Edward and he laughed. "Looks like your partner learned how to fly after all."

Edward stepped around Bruce and squared up his shoulders. "We know you were the one who killed Maroni's lieutenants, who attacked Falcone, who killed Cragen. Tell us who hired you."

"You're a smart guy," O'Reilly said. "You figure it out."

Edward took another step forward. "Rupert Thorne hired you to take out Falcone and Maroni's men! Admit it! Admit it, you moron! We've got you dead to rights!"

"Edward," Bruce said. "Stay back!"

"Stay out of this!" Edward hissed. "This is my case! I've been waiting for this for five years!"

O'Reilly laughed. "Trouble in paradise?'

"You shut up!" Edward yelled. He took another step forward, just beyond Bruce's reach. "You tell me it was Thorne, or so help me God-"

O'Reilly took a step forward then. "You'll what? What can you do to me that I'm not prepared to do to myself?" He lowered his hand and pulled something from under his shirt. Bruce realized in horror that he was holding a bomb. "I was going to use this to take out Maroni, but I heard you come in." He took another step forward and Bruce could see that there was a timer on the bomb. 60 seconds. "You want to hear the truth? Fine. I killed the Maroni lieutenants. I killed Cragen. I tried to kill Falcone. And now, I'm going to kill the two of you!" He moved forward as if to grab Edward and Bruce threw his Batarang, hitting his wrist and knocking the bomb out of his hands. O'Reilly cursed and tried to run out of the room, only for Edward to bash him in the head with his cane. O'Reilly fell dazed to the floor. Bruce dashed to the bomb. 30 seconds. 

"Can you defuse it?" Edward asked.

25 seconds. "No," Bruce said. He looked up for any way out and saw a window that overlooked an outdoor courtyard. Too risky to throw the bomb out, in case there was anyone outside, not to mention the damage the explosion could do to the neighboring apartments. 20, 19, 18-There was time, however, to get something out. Bruce threw open the window.

"What are you doing? You can't throw the bomb outside!" Edward yelled.

Without a word, Bruce bodily picked up Edward and threw him out of the open window. He heard him let out a loud protest, then he turned to get O'Reilly. He grabbed the man by his shirt collar and carried him towards the door that led to the hallway. 5.4.3.2.1. 

Bruce was two steps into the hallway when he was thrown to the floor by the force and heat of the blast. His world turned red, then black.


	11. Partnership's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected development in the case compels Bruce to make a decision about the future of his partnership with Edward.

Bruce slowly came to in a hallway billowing with thick, dark smoke. He could feel the heat of the flames from the room licking at the edges of his cape and it brought him closer to awareness. He slowly opened his eyes. About a foot or two ahead, he could make out O'reilly's prone form, lying face down in the carpet. Bruce summoned his strength, grasped tightly onto the carpet and pulled himself first to his knees, then to his feet. He needed to get them out of here. 

He reached down to grasp under O'Reilly's arms, then half carried, half dragged him towards the front door of his apartment. Just a few steps, that's all he needed to do, just make a few more steps...

Bruce fell to his knees, coughing. The air around him was hot, already beginning to burn his lungs. He couldn't stop, he needed to get himself and O'Reilly out, he just needed to get close enough to the door. He attempted to stand again and took a few more steps before he fell forward, taking care to roll over a bit to prevent crushing O'Reilly. He coughed again, the smoke filling his nostrils and making his eyes tear up. Bruce wondered for a moment where Edward was if he'd called the fire department if he was clear of the building when the bomb had gone off. Bruce resisted the urge to shut his eyes and tried in vain to get back up before he fell back to the floor. Another round of coughs sent spasms through his body. He had an oxygen mask and a tank in the Batmobile, he just needed to get up-Bruce shut his eyes, at first to dull the burning pain. He couldn't die here, he couldn't let O'Reilly die here, he had to get them out, he had to get Thorne behind bars, he had to see Alfred and Dick again, he needed to tell Edward that he was sorry for going behind his back, that he was sorry for not trusting him. Edward, Edward...

..."Batman? Batman!"

Bruce's eyes flew open at the sound of Edward's voice. Was he imagining it? No. In the smoke and flames, he could make out the man's face just above his own, he could feel both of his hands trying to pull him up. "Come on!" Edward called out again. "You have to get up! I can't carry you!"

"What-" Bruce's came out in a hoarse whisper. "What...are you doing here, Edward?"

"Obviously, trying to save you," he huffed. He had his tie tied around his nose to serve as a crude bandana, but that wouldn't protect him from the smoke for long.

"Out-" Bruce coughed again. "Get out, Edward!"

Edward pulled again at Bruce, this time on his arm. "Not without you," he said. "I didn't exactly run into a burning building to come out empty handed!"

"Then get O'Reilly," Bruce argued, just managing with Edward's help to get himself to his knees. "He's the one who can make the case against Thorne."

Edward looked from Bruce to O'Reilly, who was now stirring and letting out a groan. He seemed to do some kind of mental calculation before he shook his head and bent down. "The GCFD can get O'Reilly. Throw your arm across my shoulder, I think I can support you to the door."

Bruce wanted to argue more but was interrupted by another round of coughing. He let his right arm rest across Edward's shoulder and with the other man's support, managed to get up to his feet.

Edward was evidently stronger than his lanky form would suggest, but Bruce could hear the man grit his teeth in strain as he guided them to the front door. In the distance, Bruce could hear the sound of approaching sirens. Finally, he felt the cooler air of the hallway. Edward gasped a bit, then kept going until they were at the front door of the building. With a final effort, Edward pushed the doors open and came to a stop just outside the front door. With a final gasp, Edward gently lowered the pair of them onto the concrete. He removed his tie, then put his hands on his knees and panted for breath. The firefighters had arrived and ran in, only pausing for a moment when they saw Batman himself. Bruce took deep gasps of the clean, cool night air, before coughing again. A paramedic rushed up to the pair. "Are you two alright?"

"There's a man still inside," Bruce managed to say. "Get him." The paramedic hesitated, then was distracted by two firefighters coming back out, carrying out O'Reilly. 

"He's got smoke inhalation," one of them said. "But he's still alive! Get a stretcher for him!" 

The paramedic rushed to do as they asked. Bruce reached down to press a button on his belt. Within seconds, the Batmobile had pulled up to the burb, much to the shock of the emergency workers. 

"What are you doing?" he heard Edward ask. "You need medical attention!"

"Not here," Bruce choked out. He stood up on shaky legs and Edward was at his side, supporting him. "There's a clinic in Park Row...we'll go there." He pressed another button and the hood of the Batmobile popped open. 

Edward shook his head as he guided him to the driver's seat. "You can barely stand, how are you going to drive to wherever this clinic is?"

"I'm not. You are."

Edward nearly dropped Bruce's arm. "M-me? I can't-"

"I'll help you," Bruce said. "The address is preprogrammed in the Batmobile's GPS system. I can guide you with the controls."

Edward wet his lip. "You'd let me-"

"I know you can do it, Edward." Bruce wanted to reach out to touch him, to reassure him. "I trust you."

Edward was silent for a long time. When he spoke again, his voice was as confident and assured as he'd ever heard him. "Yes, I can. Of course, I can." He chuckled a bit. "I am a hacking genius after all. Driving this car will be child's play."

Bruce let out a little smirk. "Glad to hear it."

Edward guided him to the passenger seat and Bruce sank down. Edward then clambered around to the other side and hopped into the driver's seat. "Red button on the left to close the hood," he murmured. Edward located the button on the left side of the dashboard and pressed it. As soon as the hood had shut, Bruce deployed the oxygen mask he had stored in a top compartment. He pressed the mask across his face and took in a deep breath. "Ignition key..." he heard Edward mutter. "Ignition..."

"The blue button under the steering wheel," Bruce said, lifting the mask slightly. 

"I knew that," Edward said. "You stick to breathing." He pressed the button and the car engine roared to life. Just out of the corner of his eye, Bruce could see Edward hesitate for a fraction of a second before a determined look came over his face. He put his foot on the gas pedal gently, then shifted the car into drive. The Batmobile went down the street, slower than how Bruce typically drove but gaining speed. 

Bruce leaned forward slightly to activate the Batmobile's GPS program. "You'll need to take a left turn on Main in a mile."

Edward nodded. "This clinic in Park Row...it wouldn't happen to be Dr. Leslie Thompkins' clinic, would it?"

Bruce nearly dropped the mask from his face. "You know it?"

"Dierdre's girls have gone there sometimes. So Dr. Thompkins is another ally of yours? I figured that you'd have to have more than just Commissioner Gordon to have stayed active as long as you have."

Bruce took another breath of oxygen. "Aren't you clever."

For the first time that night, Edward smiled. Bruce was struck by the fact that he had missed that. "I try," he said. He turned his focus back to the road. "Driving the Batmobile. The girls will never believe this."

Bruce was about to reply when he was overtaken by another long, violent round of coughing. He pressed the mask to his face for air, which helped slightly. When he looked back up, Edward looked panicked. "Are you alright? Do I need to hurry? We shouldn't have left those paramedics, I should have gotten in sooner, I should have-"

"Edward," Bruce said weakly. "Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit?"

Edward nearly slammed his foot on the breaks. "What?"

"Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit?"

Edward's face lit up in realization, then he let out a huff. "Anywhere it wants. I'm alright. And if you can tell me basic riddles, you must be too. Here's Main." He slowly turned the wheel of the car down Main. "I suppose we should be glad there's almost no one out tonight. Where to next?"

"Right on Broad in a quarter of a mile. After that, you'll need to take a right onto Park. The clinic will be on the left side of the-" Bruce coughed again, more violently than before. "Just keep-" he coughed again. "Keep going, Edward. I'll be alright."

Edward chewed his lower lip, alternating between looking at the road and at Bruce. "You'd better be," he said. "You'd better be or so help me..."

"Thank you," Bruce managed to say. His vision was going dark. If he didn't make it to Leslie's he wanted Edward to know that it wasn't his fault. "For coming after me."

Edward shrugged. "Well, I owed you, I suppose."

"I'm sorry," Bruce said again. "About Kristen. About going behind your back."

Edward let out a long sigh. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not still angry about that, but I understand why you did it. But why are you apologizing now-" Bruce shut his eyes and lay against the seat, the oxygen mask dropping from his fingers. The last thing he heard was Edward's voice. _"Batman!"_

* * *

 

It was a bright light that brought Bruce back to consciousness and a different, older voice calling him. "Bruce? Can you hear me?"

Bruce groaned and slowly opened his eyes. In an instant, he recognized the private room he used in Leslie's clinic. Leslie was standing over him, with a cool compress to his forehead. "Welcome back to the living."

Bruce brought his fingers up to his face. "How long have I been here?"

"Four hours. It's nearly dawn now. You gave us quite a scare, Bruce."

Bruce attempted to sit up in the bed. "Edward-"

"He's in the other room. I had to threaten to sedate him to get him to leave so I could treat you."

"How bad am I?"

"Smoke inhalation mostly, with a few cuts and bruises. You were very lucky, you know. You need to take it easy for a few days."

"Not likely," Bruce said, getting out of bed. He still felt weak, but he needed to see Edward. Then get information from O'Reilly.

Leslie let out a long-suffering sigh. "I thought as much. Well, it won't just be me nagging you this time. I'm sure your partner will have plenty to say as well."

Bruce froze midway putting his cowl back on. "I take it you've spoken to him."

"I have." Leslie had a bit of a smirk on her face. "He seems quite taken with you. Is there something you need to tell me?"

 _I think he's a bit in love with you._ Bruce finished pulling the cowl over his eyes. "We've been working together investigating Rupert Thorne's involvement with the gang violence the last few nights," If O'Reilly flipped on Thorne, Bruce thought, that would be the end of him. Edward would have the vengeance he wanted. And their partnership would come to an end. "That's all it is, Leslie."

"I know it's none of my business Bruce, but I think it's more than a working partnership for him. He only stopped trying to sneak in here because he passed out from exhaustion an hour ago. I think the two of you need to have a talk."

Bruce wasn't sure he wanted to know what Edward really thought of him. Or what he was beginning to feel for the man himself. "After this case, Leslie," Bruce said finally. "We need to go."

"Straight home," she ordered, handing him his cape. "I'll be calling Alfred in a few hours to confirm."

"Fine, Leslie," Bruce said, putting the cape on. He walked out of the private room into the main waiting room and saw Edward asleep in a chair, his long legs propped up on a small end table. Bruce slowly walked up to the man, considering the peaceful expression on his face. His auburn hair usually slicked back, hung loosely about his face making him look younger than his years. His cheeks were still pink from the exertion of dragging Bruce through a burning building and from the stress of the drive here. His breath was coming out softly, so softly Bruce could barely hear it. Bruce moved his glove close. He wanted to smooth back that hair, to caress that face, but he knew Leslie was watching. Instead, he gently shook his shoulder. "Edward."

Edward let out a low whine. Bruce shook him again. "Edward."

Edward's eyes blinked open, then widened when they saw Bruce standing before him. He was on his feet in seconds. "You're alright!" he smiled. Then his smirk returned. "Thanks in no small part to yours truly." Leslie cleared her throat. "And to the incomparable Dr. Leslie Thompkins, of course!"

"Ready to go?" Bruce asked.

"Only if you and I are going home," Edward said. He popped out his back with a grunt. "I need to shower. And sleep for the rest of the day." He jabbed his finger at the emblem on Bruce's costume. "And you should as well. Doctor's orders, right Dr.?"

"Right," Leslie nodded. "Take care. Both of you. Nice to meet you, Edward."

Edward gave a small wave. "Nice to meet you too, Leslie." He followed Bruce out of the clinic and back to the Batmobile, parked right out in front. The sun wasn't quite out yet, but the dark night sky was beginning to grow lighter. "You will go home, won't you?" Edward asked. 

"After I drop you off, yes," Bruce said. "But on my way, I'm going to stop by GCPD."

"O'Reilly," Edward answered. He folded his arms. "Are you going to interrogate him without me?"

Bruce considered this but thought better of it. After everything, Edward deserved to at least be there. "No. Just to find out where and how he is. I'll come back to your apartment tonight to tell you ur next steps."

Edward nodded. "Great." He smiled again, genuinely and Bruce was struck by how handsome he really was. "Can I drive again?"

Bruce chuckled a bit. "Not on your life."

* * *

 

Commissioner Gordon was waiting for Bruce on the rooftop of GCPD, which caused him concern. "What's happened?" he asked.

Gordon lit his pipe and sighed. "O'Reilly's dead."

No. "From the fire?"

Gordon took a puff out of his pipe and shook his head. "No, he was pulling through from smoke inhalation. We had him under police guard but during a shift change, someone snuck into his room and smothered him with a pillow."

Damn it. Thorne must have gotten wind of O'Reilly's hospitalization and sent someone to shut him up. "Any video surveillance?"

"We're looking into it, but the cameras in that hospital are faulty. We also need to consider that Thorne may have people working for him in that hospital. And anything that O'Reilly might have had in his apartment that connects him to Thorne likely went up in the explosion. We're looking into his bank accounts now to see if we can trace any payments, but we haven't come up with anything yet."

So now, after everything that had happened, the investigation into Thorne was back to square one. And Thorne was becoming even more brazen in taking out anyone who could be a potential threat to him-Edward. Had O'Reilly been in communication with Thorne the past few days? Had he told Thorne that Edward was working with him to take him down? Would Thorne target Edward next? And even if he didn't know, how long until Thorne did find out about Edward? Edward had been a detective in GCPD, but he wasn't like Bruce or Gordon, or like Bullock and Montoya even. It would be so easy for Thorne to send someone to kill him, and Edward didn't have the tools to defend himself. If anything happened to Edward, Bruce didn't think he could forgive himself.

"What do you think?"

Bruce looked back at Gordon. "I have a few leads I can look into. I'll be in touch." And with that, Bruce picked up his grappling hook and disappeared into the dawn.

* * *

 

Bruce slept very little when he returned to Wayne Manor, much to Leslie and Alfred's irritation. He tossed and turned in bed, thinking over everything he had learned about Edward over the last few nights. He was brilliant but didn't think through the consequences of his actions. He was a good man, but he was capable of doing terrible things if pushed. He was on a tightrope, in danger of losing himself to this case, to this life, like Harvey, like Andrea, like Bruce himself. Edward deserved more, deserved better than to be dragged down into the darkness with him. Bruce shut his eyes at last. He knew what he had to do. He just needed to summon the courage to go through with it.

* * *

It was well after nine when Bruce finally showed up to Edward's office. His light was on, as expected. Bruce sat in the Batmobile for a long time looking at that lit room, thinking about the man who was waiting for him inside. More than once on the drive over, he'd thought about what he was going to do and if he could go through with it. It was only ever supposed to be temporary, but Edward wasn't like any man, like anyone he'd ever met. There was a spark, a synergy between the two that was electric, that was engaging, that was exciting. Bruce had never found anything like this before and he wasn't sure if he ever would again. He popped open the hood of the car and aimed his grappling hook at the fire escape for the last time. He had to go through with this. Edward's safety was more important than whatever had developed between them. He fired and pulled himself up to the fire escape.

Edward was waiting by the window for him this time. His eyes lit up, those green eyes that had first intrigued Bruce, and he opened the window for him. "You're earlier than I thought you'd be!" Edward greeted. He looked as put together as he normally did as if he hadn't spent the wee hours of that morning walking through a burning apartment and driving the Batmobile. Edward seemed to detect Bruce's mood however and his face soon fell. "What is it?"

Bruce inwardly sighed. Now or never. "O'Reilly was murdered at the hospital early this morning."

Edward's jaw dropped, then his face darkened. "Thorne," he seethed. He clenched his right fist and banged it on top of his desk. "Damn it! O'Reilly was our best connection to Thorne! Now how are we going to tie him to the murders!?"

"The GCPD are looking through O'Reilly's accounts now to see if there's any connection between him and Thorne's associates."

"There won't be," Edward hissed, rubbing his knuckles. "Thorne probably paid him in cash. We should talk to O'Reilly's girlfriend again, see if she can describe the people she saw talking with him."

"I'll look into that," Bruce said. 

Edward furrowed his brow and looked at him. "You'll look into that? What do you want me to do? Go back to my sources?"

Bruce took a long look at the man, wanting more than anything not to say what he was about to say. "Edward," he said at last. "I came to you to find out who the person who killed Maroni's and Falcone's men was. Now we have. As far as I'm concerned, our partnership is over."

Edward's face went white and his jaw dropped in shock. He looked stricken for a moment. "You-but-I thought-" Then he narrowed his eyes at him. "If that's the case, then you can see yourself out. I was investigating Thorne long before you barged into my office in the first place and I can do it without your help!"

"Edward," Bruce said in a measured tone. "I don't want you looking into this matter anymore. You've done more than enough. I'll be the one to take down Thorne. Stay out of it."

Edward's face turned red. "Or else what? You'll stop me? You'll sic the GCPD on me?"

"If I have to," Bruce answered and he tried to ignore the stunned look of betrayal on Edward's face. "Thorne's made it quite clear that he won't let anyone stand in his way of taking over the Gotham Underworld. You'll do yourself more harm than good getting involved in this."

"Getting involved?" Edward repeated incredulously. "Getting involved? I am involved! Thorne's responsible for the worst time of my life! For what happened to Kristen! I have to take him down! You can't take that away from me! You can't!"

"Are you listening to yourself, Edward?" Bruce asked. "This is becoming an obsession for you. Do you really think that throwing your life away to take down Thorne will bring you peace?"

Edward pointed his finger accusingly at him. "You of all people should talk! Obsession with trying to bring order to this cesspool of a city seems to have done wonders for you now, hasn't it!" When Bruce didn't respond, he lowered his hand and looked down at his feet. "What did I do?" he asked softly. "You said you trusted me. What changed? Do you blame me for what happened to O'Reilly? What?"

Bruce wanted to go his side, to tell him that it was nothing he had done, that it was Thorne, that Bruce had lost so many people to him, to men like him, that if he lost Edward he thought something in him might break, but he stood still. "I've said all I needed to say." 

Edward looked up at him then, and it took everything in Bruce's power to not react when he saw the tears forming in his eyes. "Tell me," Edward said, in a plaintive tone that showed just how heartbroken he was. _I think he's a little bit in love with you._ "Was-was I ever anything more than an asset to you?"

 _Yes,_ Bruce thought. _You are so much more than that to me._ He turned and walked out the window. "Goodbye, Edward." He then walked down the fire escape and back to the Batmobile, without a look back. _I'm sorry, Edward._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Yeah. I'm sorry for how long I've been away and for the content of this chapter. But this is just the end of Act Two. We still have a few more chapters to get through. There's one more player that needs to be introduced after all and there are things unsaid between Bruce and Edward...


	12. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks after ending their partnership, Bruce meets Edward again.

It had been two weeks since the murders that had rocked Gotham's criminal underworld. Two weeks since O'Reilly, the confessed murderer, had been killed himself. Two weeks since Bruce had last seen or spoken to Edward Nigma.

It felt like longer.

He'd spent the first few days in the Bat Cave, going over every detail he could find of O'Reilly's life, trying not to waste time looking at Edward's profile, Edward's picture. That was done.

O'Reilly had been a courier, had served time in New York for arson and assault, and at the time of his death, had a little over $22,000 in his bank account, $20,000 of which had been a cash deposit the day before the bombing of the Maroni restaurant. If there was a direct link between him and Thorne, Bruce hadn't been able to find it. He'd hit a wall after three days. He'd finally left the Bat Cave on the morning of the third day, looking for O'Reilly's girlfriend, but she'd disappeared back into the shadows of Gotham City. Bruce could only hope that her disappearance was voluntary. Falcone had been moved to an undisclosed hospital somewhere in the city limits and Maroni had been taken into federal custody on tax evasion charges. The Maroni and the Falcone crime families were as good as dead, which left Rupert Thorne as that last mob boss of any significant standing in Gotham City.

So for most of the past two weeks, Bruce waited and watched. Most of the foot soldiers of the Maroni and Falcone crime families had gone underground or joined Thorne's organization with little violence. Now that his hired gun was gone, Thorne had seemed to go back to his previous, more cautious demeanor, but sooner or later, he'd slip up. He'd get overconfident, he'd make one fatal mistake, and then Bruce would have him. So he waited.

That wasn't what kept him up at the wee hours of the morning though.

Every night before he returned to Wayne Manor from patrol, he would stop the Batmobile by Edward's office and look up, to make sure that the light was on, that Edward was still there. Each night, the light would be on, and Bruce could just make out a figure pacing through the office. Each night, he'd be tempted to go up that fire escape, to open that window, to tell Edward that he was sorry, to tell Edward that he-but each time, he'd remember Harvey and Andrea and he'd drive on.

Exactly two weeks to the night that he'd called off their partnership, Bruce was sitting in the Batmobile, craning his neck to look up at Edward's office and waiting to catch a glimpse of the man in the window. He hadn't caught sight of Edward since telling him to back off the case, but somehow Bruce knew that he was still investigating. He'd almost hoped he'd catch him out on patrol, so he would at least have an excuse to see him again.

_"Master Bruce?"_

Alfred's voice on the Batmobile's communications brought Bruce out of his trance. "Go ahead, Alfred."

_"It's after 2 am Sir. How goes it out there?"_

Bruce caught movement in the office and he sighed. "Quiet. I'll be heading back shortly." He let his gaze linger for a moment longer before he shifted the car into drive. He heard Alfred's voice continue.  _"It's just as well. We do have that charity function we're hosting at the manor tomorrow afternoon."_

"Don't remind me," Bruce groaned. A charity function was the last thing he wanted to be involved with right now, but he'd hosted this gathering to raise money for his mother's charity for the past ten years. He couldn't cancel or choose not to make an appearance. "I'll be home in about thirty minutes."

 _"Very good."_ There was a pause before Alfred spoke again.  _"Did you at least speak to him tonight, sir?"_

Bruce didn't answer.

* * *

 

Twelve hours later, the cream of the crop of Gotham's upper class was gathered under the roof of Wayne Manor. At least twenty people were gathered in the main hall, while others were scattered about the outer grounds. Dick was sitting on the sofa, dressed in a tuxedo and entertaining the younger women with tales of made up exploits and having his cast signed. Bruce himself was in the living room, making the rounds. "Nice to see you again, Mark. Looking good, Rita. Thank you for coming Paul." It was routine hand-shaking and small talk, but Bruce felt exhausted. As he shook another hand, a flash of red caught his vision. He turned around, dropping the hand in his haste. Was it-The man with red hair turned around and Bruce recognized his old school friend Tommy, who waved. Bruce waved back, trying not to let his disappointment show. 

"Bruce! Darling!"

Bruce had to let out a smile when he saw Veronica pushing her way through the crowd. "Hi, Ronnie."

Veronica grabbed his hands and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "You've outdone yourself this year, Brucie. The home looks beautiful! And Alfred outdid himself on the Hors d'oeuvres this year."

"I'll be sure to tell him that," Bruce said. "How have you been?"

Veronica laughed. "I can't complain! Oh, it seems like forever since we've seen each other! How's Dick?"

Bruce nodded towards the sofa. "He's fine. I think he's enjoying the attention."

Veronica laughed, then her face fell a bit. "What's wrong?" Bruce asked.

Veronica played idly with her necklace. "It's Eddie. He's been a bit of a funk the last two weeks. He won't go out, he won't talk to anyone. It's almost like he had his heart broken."

Bruce felt his stomach drop. _I think he's in love with you._ "And you have no idea what happened?"

Veronica sighed. "None. I actually dragged him out here today to see if a change of scenery would do him any good, but he's hardly said two words to anyone-"

Bruce raised his hand as Veronica's words finally sank in. "Edward's here?"

Veronica nodded. "Yes. Last time I saw him, he was heading out to the balcony." Veronica turned to point to the glass doors in the living room that led to a balcony that overlooked the bluffs. "You know what? Maybe you should try talking to him!"

Bruce shuffled. "Ronnie, I don't think-"

"Oh come on, Bruce! You two seemed to hit it off well enough at my party! Maybe he'll be more comfortable talking to a man than to me about whatever happened."

Veronica clearly wasn't taking no for an answer and there was no way Bruce could tell her that he was the absolute last person who had any right to talk to Edward. So Bruce gave Veronica a quick tight smile and walked towards the balcony.

Sure enough, Edward was standing out on the balcony looking over the bluffs to the sea, his back to the doors. He was only wearing a green suit coat today and no hat, leaving his auburn hair free and blowing in the breeze. For a long moment, Bruce stood behind the glass doors, watching the man he'd broken the heart of, the man he'd wanted more than anything to see the past two weeks. Finally, he opened the doors. Edward jerked up a bit when he heard the noise and hastily raised an arm to wipe something off of his face.

"Edward Nigma, isn't it?" Bruce asked in his practiced jovial tone. "It's been a while." Edward slumped a bit, not looking behind him. Bruce frowned a bit, then continued on. "I'm not sure if you remember, but I'm-"

"Bruce Wayne," Edward said absently. "I remember." His voice was hoarse, far from the confident, brassy tone he usually possessed. 

Bruce sighed, then walked to the edge of the railing right next to Edward. "How have you been?"

Edward slowly looked up at him and Bruce quickly sucked in a breath. There were large dark circles under Edward's eyes, stubble on his jaw and his eyes, his brilliant green eyes, were dull and red-rimmed. He looked at Bruce with a glare. "I remember when we last met," he said. "And you didn't want anything to do with me. Why are you checking up on me now?"

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. He'd have to be careful in what he said to the man. "Ronnie's been worried," he offered as an explanation. "She's a friend of mine and you're a friend of hers, I assume."

Edward seemed to deflate, then turned his gaze back towards the horizon. "Ronnie's a sweet woman, under that society girl nonsense," he murmured. "But she couldn't understand."

Bruce stepped a bit closer. "Understand what?"

Edward sighed, then looked down at his hands. "You're a renowned playboy. Tell me," he said in a small voice. "Have you ever met someone who makes you feel alive? I mean, really alive?"

Bruce looked down at his own hands and thought of Andrea, of Edward himself. "Once or twice."

"I've always had a bit of trouble connecting with other people. Finding people who really understand me, people who I can fully engage with." Edward let out a small laugh. "And then one day, he shows up at my fire escape and it was like a lightning strike. It was so easy to converse with him, it was like he knew my every thought before I could even think it, it was..." he let out a sigh. "It was the most alive I've ever felt. And then as soon as he was there, he was gone, and it's like he took a part of me with him." He shook his head. "Just my luck, I'd have to fall in love with the Dark Knight. I must be either the biggest lunatic or the biggest idiot in all of Gotham."

There it was. The confirmation of Edward's feelings for him. This should be a problem, but instead, Bruce felt almost...elated. He wanted to take the man into his arms when he remembered. It was Batman that Edward loved, not Bruce Wayne, and Batman couldn't be with him. "You wouldn't be the first to fall for him," Bruce said. "I think Ronnie had a bit of a crush on him a while back."

"Why am I not surprised?" Edward asked. His face darkened. "Did he break her heart too?"

Bruce fiddled with the cufflinks of his dress shirt. "Not as far as I know. What happened?"

Edward stared at him from the corner of his eye for a moment, before he continued. "We were working on a case together, I won't bore you with the particulars, but we were making progress. He said he trusted me. And then, he told me out of the blue that not only was our partnership over, but he also didn't want me to be involved in the case at all anymore. The case I've spent so long working on! How could he do that to me? How could he go from trusting me one night to not wanting anything to do with me the next?"

"Maybe it wasn't about trust," Bruce said. "Maybe, he was trying to protect you. Maybe he did what he did because he wants what's best for you." That was what Bruce told himself on the nights he was out of the car and had his grappling hook aimed at the fire escape outside of Edward's window. It was for the best. Edward deserved more, deserved better than to be dragged into the dark with Bruce.

Edward's voice cut through these thoughts like a knife and his words were just as sharp. "The best for me? How would he know what's best for me? He's never bothered to ask me!"

Bruce looked at Edward and was surprised at the look of anger on his face. "Arrogant, self-righteous-" Edward made a frustrated noise. "I'll admit, I don't have quite the physicality he does or the flair for the dramatic, but I'm not some helpless damsel in distress either! If he had genuine concerns for my safety, then he should have at least had enough respect for me to have a conversation with me, not dictate orders!" Edward folded his arms in front of him. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he must have had some kind of trauma in his life. No man would put on a suit and fight crime otherwise. Whatever it was, it's clearly affected his ability to really interact with people. I wish I knew what it was. Maybe I could have-" Edward's voice trailed off, before he spoke in a softer tone. "If what you say is true, then I don't think he was trying to protect me. I think he's trying to protect himself. I think he's trying to spare himself anymore pain."

For a long moment, Bruce didn't know what to say. Was Edward right? Before he could say anything, Edward let out another sigh. "I don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Alright," Bruce said. "What do you want to talk about?"

Edward gave him a wry look. "You don't have to mind me, you know. I'm sure Ronnie will understand if you have a few more rounds to make."

"It's no problem at all. To tell the truth, I think I've made small talk with just about everyone else here. How about I show you around the manor?"

Edward rubbed his chin in thought. "Well...alright. I'd like that, Mr. Wayne-"

Bruce held up a hand. "Please. Any friend of Ronnie's is a friend of mine. Call me Bruce."

Edward smiled a bit and Bruce felt his own heart lift at the sight of it. "Alright. Bruce. Lead the way."

Bruce led Edward off the balcony and back into the Manor proper, giving only cursory waves to the people inside. "So where exactly are you taking me first?" Edward asked.

Bruce hadn't actually thought of that. He knew he shouldn't linger so long in Edward's company, but he didn't know when he'd see him again. A part of him wanted to take advantage of this. "I guess the library would be a bit cliche, wouldn't it?"

"It would," Edward agreed. He shrugged. "But I'm not complaining."

Bruce grinned a bit. "Great. It's just down this hall." Across the room, Bruce caught sight of Alfred passing out drinks to the other guests. Alfred glanced his and Edward's direction and gave Bruce a knowing smirk. Bruce ignored him.

* * *

Edward let out a low whistle when he saw the sheer amount of books kept in the library. "No offense," he said. "But I never pictured you having a collection this size."

Bruce shrugged. "None taken. Not all of them are mine. Some of them are Dick's."

"Your ward, right?" Edward's eyes darted between the shelves, before he settled on one hardcover in particular. "Does he or you like to read Chandler?"

"Both of us, though that copy's mine," Bruce admitted. "Do you read Chandler?"

"Do I?" Edward said, opening the book and flipping through the pages. "Only once a year. Double Indemnity is my favorite. You?"

"The Big Sleep. I got into pulp detective fiction for a bit when I was younger, after I watched The Grey Ghost."

Edward looked up, his mouth open slightly. "Did you and I share a childhood? I used to watch The Grey Ghost too! I've got a signed poster from Simon Trent in my apartment."

Bruce had missed that when he'd been in Edward's apartment. He smiled fondly at the other man. It seemed that they had more in common than either could have anticipated. "I used to watch it with my father."

Edward's face grew serious and he placed the book back on his shelf. "You were close to him?"

"Yes. To him and my mother."

"Ah." Edward pulled at his fingers a bit. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

"It's alright," Bruce said. This wasn't what he wanted to dwell on in Edward's company. "What was your favorite episode?"

"The Mad Bomber, of course," Edward answered the lightness back in his voice. "I figured out how the bomber was committing his crimes before the end of the episode, of course."

Bruce chuckled. "Of course you did. You know, I've got the whole run of the Grey Ghost on film, if you want to borrow an episode."

Edward's face fell slightly. "I'm too busy now, but believe me, I'd love to take you up on it." Edward fidgeted with his hands again before he spoke. "You know, you're not at all like how I imagined you were."

"Oh?" Bruce asked. "I get that a lot."

Edward smiled a bit. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost think that the playboy image was an act."

Bruce nearly did a double take, before he willed himself to relax. Edward was a detective, past and present. Of course, he'd pick up on things. "I could say the same about you," he countered. "Having an autographed poster of The Grey Ghost doesn't exactly fit with your image of 'genius private detective'."

Edward shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a man of hidden depths. You are too, I think."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Bruce chuckled. Edward joined in a bit. Whether he was fully thrown off the scent, Bruce couldn't say. "You know," Bruce said. "When I first saw you on TV, I thought you were a smug jerk."

"Rude!" Edward admonished. "But not entirely inaccurate I suppose."

"I was wrong," Bruce said. He licked his lower lip before he continued. "I don't think that anymore. I think you're a good man."

"Well, thank you, I-" Edward's eyes went wide. "Wait. What did you say?"

Bruce realized that he'd said too much. Edward was looking at him, his brow furrowed as if he was putting the pieces of a puzzle together. "I-"

"Ah, there you are, sir!"

Bruce and Edward both turned to see Alfred at the doorway. Bruce had never been happier to see him. "Ms. Vreeland was wondering where the two of you had gone."

"Well, best not to keep Ronnie waiting," Edward said, walking over to Alfred. He held his hand out to the old butler. "Edward Nigma, Private Investigator."

"Alfred Pennyworth, the butler. I've heard quite a bit about you." Alfred shook Edward's hand politely, then scrutinized his jacket. "Chiefly about your taste in attire."

Edward looked down at his jacket. "Well, I do have an aesthetic to maintain. So, you've been here for a long time, I take it?"

"Before Master Bruce was even born," Alfred answered. "I have many stories I could share about his youthful misadventures-"

"None of which we have the time to get into right now," Bruce said, almost pushing Edward out the door. "Let's go find Ronnie."

Edward pouted a bit. "You're no fun anymore."

"There was something I've been meaning to ask you about Ronnie," Bruce whispered as soon as they were down the hall and out of Alfred's earshot. 

"Ronnie?" Edward asked, a confused expression on his face. "What about her?"

"You know she has a crush on you, right?"

Edward's face turned a bright pink. Ronnie had been right all along. The man was adorable. "She-really? Oh. Oh my."

"You really didn't know?"

"I-well, I thought she seemed a bit friendly, but oh my," Edward stammered. "Poor Ronnie. Maybe if she were a Ronald, but-Oh dear. I've never been the one to do the rejecting."

"Don't worry. She'll get over it," Bruce said. "She'll probably still drag you out on the town though."

Edward laughed, dissipating his nervous energy. "There are worse fates, I suppose." They were about to walk back into the crowded living room when Edward reached out to touch Bruce's shoulder. "Thank you. Not for telling me about Veronica, though I did need to hear that, but thank you for talking with me. You really did make me feel better."

Bruce smiled, but inside, felt nothing but regret. "You're welcome, Edward."

Edward smiled again, then walked off to join Veronica, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Dick on the sofa."

"Eddie, darling!" Veronica called out, waving him over. "There you are! I was afraid you'd left me!"

Edward flushed a bit at the endearment but recovered. "Never, Ronnie. Who's this?"

"Dick Grayson, I'm Bruce's ward," Dick said, holding out his hand. "You're the Private Eye, right? I've seen you on the news a lot! Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you," Edward said. Bruce realized that his attention was solely on Dick's cast. "How did that happen?"

"Some jerk ran a red light and hit my car a few weeks ago," Dick answered without missing a beat. "Want to sign?"

Bruce watched Edward rub his chin. "A few weeks ago..." Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. "Why not? You can keep it as a souvenir." He leaned down and signed his name with a flourish. "There you are."

Bruce watched from the corner of the room as Dick and Edward engaged in banter, with Veronica chiming in ever so often. After today, he didn't know when or if he'd see Edward again. He wished he didn't have to leave. Bruce was so wrapped up in watching the scene he almost didn't hear Alfred walk up behind him. "He is quite a character, isn't he, sir?"

"Yes, he is," Bruce said softly.

"I can't help but notice that you seem to be in a better mood than you've been for the last few weeks. And I don't think Mr. Nigma's presence here isn't related to that."

Leave it to Alfred to notice. Bruce sighed. "I can't be with him Alfred," he said. "I want to be, more than anything, but it's too dangerous."

"For him, or for you?"

Bruce stiffened. He felt Alfred place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know how many people you've lost, Bruce. I know that you've been thinking of Harvey and Andrea. But Mr. Nigma is not Harvey or Andrea. He does not deserve to be treated as if he is."

"I know he doesn't Alfred, but he deserves better."

"Isn't that his choice to make?"

He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he knew Alfred was right. Bruce watched as Edward laughed at a joke Dick made. "What should I do, Alfred?"

"Go to him. Perhaps not tonight. Perhaps not tomorrow, but go to him. Tell him everything you feel and then leave it in his hands. Let him decide for himself."

Bruce watched for a few minutes more, until Edward and Veronica got up, and headed towards the door. Edward turned back to Bruce and waved. The light in his eyes was back. Bruce never wanted to see that light go out again. He'd do it. Tomorrow night, after patrol. He'd go to him and tell him that he was sorry. He'd go to him and tell him he wanted to make their partnership permanent.

He'd go to Edward and he'd tell him he was starting to fall in love with him.

* * *

 Across town, a very different man was having a very different gathering.

"Cheers boss," a crony in a cheap suit toasted, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. "To being the only crime boss in town!" A chorus of cheers came up from the crowd of men sitting around a long oak table.

At the head of the table, Rupert Thorne held his hand up. "Gentlemen. Thank you for everything that you've accomplished, but our work's not quite over yet. There's one more thing we have to do before we can truly take over this town."

"What, boss?" The man seated to his right asked. "Maroni's going to Club Fed and Falcone's a dead man walking. Who's left to stop us?"

Thorne's black eyes narrowed. "Batman, that's who. If we're going to be the Top Dog in this town, we need to take him down."

To his left, a young woman dressed in red leaned forward. "I may have an idea for how to go about that Rupe." She pulled out a newspaper from her briefcase and set it down in front of him.

Thorne took a glance at the headline. 'Private Detective Edward Nigma cracks the case of Vreeland Jewel Robbery'. The rotund gangster smiled. "I see. Very well. Stop by his office tomorrow Candace and tell him he has a new client."

 

 

 

 


	13. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward comes face to face with Rupert Thorne and begins to play the most dangerous game of all.

_"You're sounding a lot better, Eddie. More like your old self. Guess Vreeland dragging you to that society thing yesterday was good for you after all."_

Edward smiled as he cradled the phone between his right shoulder and ear. "I suppose it was." In more ways than one. Getting out into the world, even the glitzy high society world, seemed to do wonders for him. Seeing _him_ again played a sizable role in that as well, even if he wasn't sure what to make of that encounter. "I feel alive again, that's for sure. I'm ready to get back to work."

_"Good to hear. What about Batdick? You're sure you don't want me and Deirdre to hunt him down and kick his ass for you?"_

"Nina dearest, even if you two could find him, you couldn't take him. I did witness him throw a man twice your size across a room. Besides, I'm over it." Well, that may not be completely true, but Edward had spent enough time moping about his office. It was time to begin the investigation again. Thorne had spent the last few weeks consolidating his power. He'd be feeling secure, confident, perhaps overly confident. Perhaps now that he had no rival, he'd finally make a mistake. Edward needed to put thoughts of Batman and what he'd learned about him behind for now. "Enough of that. Have you and Deirdre heard anything?"

_"A lot of the old Falcone and Maroni guys joined up with Thorne's crew, at least the grunts did. Other than that, not much. Thorne's always been a tough nut to crack."_

Edward leaned back in his office chair and groaned. "Tell me about it." A knock on his door drew his attention. "Nina, there's someone at the door, I have to go. Just keep your eyes and ears open. I'll be by later tonight."

 _"See you later tonight, Eddie."_ Edward hung up the cell phone and placed it down on his desk before getting out of his chair. He took a moment to smooth back his hair and adjust his purple vest before he crossed the room to open the door. He'd finally settled back into his morning grooming routine today. He needed to look his best for his clients.

He opened the door and saw an attractive, dark-haired young woman wearing a short red skirt and red suit jacket practically leaning against his doorway. Her almond shaped eyes looked him up and down and her lips upturned in a smirk. "Edward Nigma?" she asked.

"That would be me," Edward answered, trying to ignore how the woman seemed to be devouring him with her eyes. The most awkward part of the job by far. "How can I help you, Ms....?"

"Call me Candace," the woman said, extending her hand out to him. Edward gently took it and gave it a shake before he withdrew his hand. 

"Very well Candace," Edward said. "How may I be of assistance to you today?"

"Actually, I'm here on behalf of my boss. He's heard quite a bit about you."

Edward arched an eyebrow. This certainly was unusual. "Does your employer have a name?"

"Rupert Thorne."

Instantly, Edward felt the room drop a few degrees. "Rupert...Thorne?" He had to be dreaming. That was it. There was no way this woman had just come in out of the blue to lead him directly to Rupert Thorne.

"The one and only," Candace smirked. 

Edward wet his lip. If Thorne had found out about him and wanted him dead, he wouldn't be sending this woman to do it. It wouldn't hurt to play along. "And just what does the illustrious Rupert Thorne want me to assist him with?"

"You can ask him yourself," Candace gestured to the front door. "I have a car waiting to take you to him. Interested?"

For a long moment, Edward considered this. This would take him straight into Thorne's lair. Kristen would be worried. Nina and Deirdre would call him an idiot. _He_ would be furious. But. But he'd been waiting for this opportunity for five years. When would it ever come again? "Give me just one moment." He walked to his hat rack to put on his flashiest jacket. He also grabbed the cane hung up on the hook next to it. After he put on his bowler hat he flashed Candace what he hoped was his most dazzling smile. "Lead the way."

* * *

 

Edward barely acknowledged Candace on the drive further in Gotham's downtown. He barely took in the sight of the stone building the car had stopped in front of or noticed the plush carpet of the hallway she and two men led him down. He barely heard the light conversation they made over the beating of his own heart. Finally, they stopped in front of a solid oak door. Candace at the front of the group opened it. "We're back, Rupe!" Edward followed Candace and the two men inside and he froze.

There was a man sitting behind a large desk. An older, overweight man with white hair, wearing a black business suit. He looked up when Candace called him and fixed the group with an oily smile. This was the man Edward had spent the last five years of his life working to bring down. This was Rupert Thorne. "Come in, come in!" he beckoned them into his office with a gesture of his palm. Edward wasn't aware that he was stepping forward until he was directly in front of Thorne's desk. Thorne looked up with a glint in his beady black eyes. "Ah, you must be the famous Edward Nigma," Thorne addressed him in a way that was almost charming. He reached his hand out to shake. "Pleased to meet you."

In one second, Edward could reach across the desk and strike Thorne. How often had he lain awake at night, wishing for that? If he'd come armed, he could have delivered a fatal blow to the man before Candace and his guards had time to react. He'd be killed but wouldn't it be worth it to make sure Thorne was put out of this city's misery for good? Edward plastered on a cool smile before he accepted the handshake. "The pleasure's all mine. It's not every day that I get to meet someone as distinguished as yourself." It made Edward almost cringe to be so subservient to the man, but appearances needed to be kept. He rubbed the head of his cane and surreptitiously pressed the record button on the underside of the cane's head. This entire conversation would be recorded. "Now, your very charming assistant said that you requested to meet with me."

Thorne dropped his hand and sat back in his plush red chair. "Yes," he said. "As I've said, I've read quite a lot about you Mr. Nigma. You've made a bit of a name for yourself solving seemingly impossible cases."

Edward made a show of shrugging. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I am the cleverest men in this city. As well as the best dressed."

Thorne let out a deep laugh. "Well, you're certainly sure of yourself! I like that. To come to the point, I'm in need of your services."

A cold dread settled in Edward's gut. In need of his services...what could that possibly be? "Go on."

Thorne leaned forward then, steepling his fat fingers. "There's one great mystery that no one in this town's ever been able to solve, but I think you can. I'd like you to figure out who the man is behind Batman's mask."

Edward felt as if he was in a daze. Batman. Of all the men and all the things Thorne could ask him for, it had to be Batman. It made sense though. With Falcone and Maroni gone, the only person left to oppose Thorne was Batman. At least, that's what Thorne believed. There was another and he was standing right in front of the gangster's stupid face. 

"Mr. Nigma?"

Edward slightly shook his head. "Batman's true identity," he pretended to muse. He rubbed his chin. "I have to admit, that's a question I've pondered myself for some time. To solve that would be quite the challenge."

"So are you interested?"

Edward looked down to study Thorne's expression. He looked right back up, his eyes almost boring into Edward's. He smiled. "Mr. Thorne, I am at your disposal."

Thorne smiled. A cold smile that wouldn't be out of place on a serial killer. In Edward's opinion, Thorne may as well be one. "Excellent! Now, about your fee-"

Edward abruptly raised his hand. "Forget it." He would be dead and buried before he ever accepted Thorne's blood money. The confused expression on Thorne's face however needed to be dealt with. "Beg your pardon, Mr. Thorne, but with something like this, the challenge is its own reward. We can discuss a fee after I deliver Batman's identity to you."

Thorne smiled again and Edward knew he had him. "Mr. Nigma, I think this could be the beginning of a great partnership."

Edward smiled himself. If the fool only knew.

* * *

 

 

The girls were, as Edward could have predicted, less than thrilled when Edward told them the news that night at Kristen's apartment. Kristen herself sat at her table, picking at the sleeves of her blouse. "Eddie," she said at last. "I'm sorry, but-"

"This is the stupidest damn idea you've ever had," Deirdre piped up from her seat on the couch next to Nina. "What happens if Thorne finds out you were in GCPD?"

"If he didn't figure it out before he had me brought to his office, he's not going to now," Edward said, pacing across Kristen's living room. "Besides, how better to collect evidence against Thorne than from his own mouth? If he trusts me, he may be candid about his actions the last few weeks."

"What about Batman though?" Nina asked. "I get that your pissed at him and I don't blame you, but are you seriously going to go along with trying to figure out who he is?"

"No," he admitted. "But Thorne doesn't need to know that. All I have to do is look busy and he won't have anything to complain about."

"For a few days, maybe," Kristen said. "Eddie, Thorne didn't get to be where he is by being an idiot. He's going to figure out that you're playing him eventually."

"Eventually," Edward said. He wasn't about to deny that Kristen had a point, but he was so close, how could he give up now? "But that's only a problem if I can't get evidence. And I will get evidence."

Kristen shook her head. "Eddie, I really think you should talk to-"

"He's the one that pushed me away, Kristen!" Edward shouted. He saw her flinch and instantly calmed himself down. He sighed. "I'll be alright. I promise."

The three women exchanged an uneasy look.

* * *

 

 

Tonight was the night, Bruce thought. He drove the Batmobile down Broad and turned onto Main. It was a quiet night on patrol tonight, as it had been for the past two weeks. The relative peace gave Bruce time to think about tonight, about what exactly he would say to Edward when he saw him. He'd apologize, of course. Offer to reform their partnership, if that was what Edward wanted. Bruce swallowed a bit. Tell Edward what he was beginning to feel for him. Everything else was up to Edward.

 _"Anything interesting going on out there?"_ Dick's voice rang through the Batmobile's communications. 

Bruce leaned forward to press a button. "Nothing so far. Just a mugging and some vandalism."

_"Wow. Maybe we should think of retiring. So, have you seen Eddie yet, or?"_

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "No, not yet. And since when did you start calling him Eddie?"

Dick laughed. _"Well, if we're going to be working together, might as well get comfortable, right? So I'm thinking we could have him be our intel guy. He's still got that informant network that could come in handy."_

Bruce hadn't thought that far ahead, but the idea of Edward joining their team was appealing in more ways than one. "I think you're just saying that to get out of intel duty."

_"You really are the World's Greatest Detective."_

Bruce was about to say something when he caught a glimpse of light in the rearview mirror. He turned around slightly and bit back a curse. The Batsignal was on in the night sky. "I got to go, Dick. I'll check in in a bit." He made a sharp left turn and drove back towards GCPD. 

When he arrived on the rooftop of GCPD, Gordon wasn't alone. Standing beside him, clutching her jacket close to her, was Kristen Kringle. Bruce's heart dropped. "What happened?"

Gordon gently put his hand on Kristen's shoulder. "Tell him what you told me."

Kristen took a step forward, her hazel eyes downcast, and said the two words Bruce feared the most. "It's Eddie." She bit her lip. "I think he's in real trouble."

* * *

 

Edward stretched his arms above his head and popped his back with a grunt. He'd just spent the last few hours reviewing the audio he'd taken at Thorne's office and backing it up to his computer. Nothing that directly connected him to the killings of course but it was a start. He'd be meeting Thorne back in his office the next morning at 9 on the dot. Hopefully, he'd slip up then. In the meantime, Edward would have to be careful just how he went about the business with Batman, how to avoid giving away what he knew. He sighed. More than anything, he wished the vigilante was with him now, that they were back to working this case together. He felt the cool wind against his back and he shivered a bit. Then he froze. The window to his fire escape was shut when he came back from Kristen's. 

"Edward."

Edward jumped out of his chair and turned around. Batman was there, standing behind his desk. Edward felt almost every emotion competing for dominance in his mind. Elation, at seeing him again. Anger, for being abandoned by him. Confusion, desire...Edward furrowed his brow when he saw how tense the vigilante was, how his fists were clenched. He was angry. "Edward," he spoke again. "Just what in the Hell are you doing?"

Edward almost took a step back before his own ire was roused. Batman was angry at him? That was rich. "I see Kristen got word to you, somehow," he said, crossing his arms. He really should have expected that. "Nice to know that all I had to do to get your attention was to make tangible progress on the case."

"You're throwing yourself in danger, Edward!" Batman shouted at him. He really was angry. "What are you thinking!?"

"I'm thinking that this is the best shot I have at getting evidence against Thorne! O'Reilly's dead and I doubt either of us had any luck connecting him to Thorne!" 

"That doesn't mean that you have to take risks like this!" Batman lowered his voice and the timber of it was very familiar to Edward. "Don't you think your life is more important than putting Thorne away?"

He sounded almost stricken and that made Edward's heart beat just a bit faster. He shook his head and stepped forward. "You told me that night when you found out about why I left GCPD that you understood me," he said. He closed the distance between the two of them and impulsively took a gloved hand into his own. "I think now I understand you. You think that you're trying to protect me. I suppose I appreciate the thought, even if the way you go about it is less than ideal. But you're so busy trying to prevent me from getting hurt that you seem to be forgetting that I survived for five years outside of GCPD with nothing but my own wits. You need to respect me as much as protect me."

"Edward-"

Edward held a hand up. "Let me finish. I want to work with you on this, more than anything. You said that you trusted me, and I believe you, but you need to prove it."

There was a long pause before Batman spoke. Soon enough, Batman moved his hands out of Edward's grasp and onto his shoulders. "Three days," he said finally. "I'll give you three days to do this. I'll be by every night to check in with you and at the first hint of any danger, I'm pulling you out. Understand?" Edward nodded. Batman sighed again. "I don't like this."

"It's not strictly speaking what I'd want either," Edward said. "But I can do it."

"I know you can," Batman said again. He dropped his hands and went back towards the open window. "I'll be back tomorrow. Be careful."

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

Batman hesitated as if there was something else he wanted to say, then he left, disappearing into the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that. We're starting to head into the endgame folks, with only about four chapters left. Thank you for all the support that you've shown for this fic. See you soon!


	14. In the Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward gathers evidence against Thorne, but a face from the past threatens everything.

"So? Make any progress since we've seen you last, Mr. Nigma?"

Edward took a long gulp of water out of the glass Candace had given to him, all the while studying Thorne's facial expression. It had been slightly over twenty-four hours since he'd come face to face with Thorne and accepted his offer. Not long enough to make any kind of serious progress with his 'investigation', but long enough to have something to give to the crime lord. The man looked placid, almost friendly, sitting behind his oak desk, enforcers standing on either side of him, all with their eyes fixed on him. A lesser man might have trembled under such scrutiny, but not Edward. He was a man who relished an audience. He wet his lip, smirked and cleared his throat. This was the beginning of the greatest performance of his career. "Well, it's a bit premature to name names, but I have come up with a few deductions if you'd care to hear them."

Thorne extended a thick hand. He must have thought he looked magnanimous. "By all means."

Edward placed the glass on Thorne desk, then folded his hands. "Well, to start with, Batman, despite several feats that would suggest otherwise, is a man-"

"No shit," one of Thorne's men snorted. He was silenced by a steely glare from Thorne.

"If I may continue," Edward huffed. "He's a mortal man. He's also a singular man. His fighting style and approach to crimefighting is too consistent for it to be multiple men wearing the same costume. The man we're looking for is also somewhat older-"

"Older?" Candace questioned, standing beside Edward's chair with her arms folded. "I've seen him in action. He seems pretty spry to me."

"Older in the sense he's not a younger man," Edward clarified, resisting the urge to snap at being interrupted again. "Remember, he's been active for a decade, and we have to account for a training period before he donned the cape and cowl. He wasn't born knowing every martial art known to man. I would say that he's in his mid-thirties, forty at the oldest. Any older and his body would begin to break down from the physical stress."

"Well, that only leaves a few million suspects," Thorne said. "I hope you have a way to narrow that down."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Edward replied. "Figuring out Batman's identity is simple, depending on what direction you look at it from." The gangster looked at him dumbly and Edward had to bite back a laugh. And to think, Kristen thought he had to worry about him figuring out he was playing him. He didn't look like he could figure his way out of a wet paper bag. "The real question you need to ask is, how does Batman manage to stay active? Where does the money come from for his gadgets, his car, his plane? His upkeep can't come cheap."

Thorne rubbed his chin in thought. "Slush fund from City Hall and the GCPD?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "While that would explain this city's ridiculous tax rates, no. His tech is a bit too sophisticated to be funded by the city. GCPD clearly doesn't have access to it, or else they'd be using it as well."

Thorne's eyebrows raised. "You suspect he's privately funded. You think one of our rich socialites is moonlighting as a vigilante?"

"That would be ridiculous even for Gotham. I do think though, that he's being funded by them. The most likely scenario is that Batman himself is a current or former member of GCPD or some other law enforcement agency who also happens to be connected to one of the upper-class families in Gotham. Or perhaps he's a bodyguard. The best way to stop him isn't finding out his identity, per se-"

"But to cut off his funds," Thorne finished, a cold smile on his face. "Very clever, Mr. Nigma. So then, how do we figure out who's funding him?"

"Well, clearly, it has to be someone with an overdeveloped civic interest-"

"What about Wayne?" Candace interrupted. "Weren't his parents gunned down in an alley? He'd be pretty interested in wiping out crime."

Edward stiffened in his chair. He needed to get them off this train of thought, fast. "I've personally dealt with the man," he said quickly. "Nice, but a bit dim and no sense of discretion. He wouldn't be able to keep something like this a secret." Candace didn't look entirely convinced but didn't say anything else. "I have contacts in high places," Edward continued. "I can look into this question today, then report back what I find out."

"Good," Thorne said, pushing his chair back and standing up. "I have to say, Mr. Nigma, I'm impressed. In one afternoon, you've come closer to uncovering the truth behind Batman than anyone else in this city has for years."

Edward got out of his chair as well. "Well, I'm flattered, Mr. Thorne." Hardly. All he had done was tell Thorne basic conclusions he'd come to years ago, but the idiot didn't need to know that. "If I may ask," Edward asked. "What do you intend to do with the information I give you?"

Thorne chuckled a bit, then reached over to pat Edward on the shoulder. Edward inwardly bristled at the contact but showed no outward reaction. "Don't concern yourself too much with that Mr. Nigma," he said. "Just focus on your work. Come back here tomorrow afternoon with what you find out." His tone was final.

Edward picked up his cane. Nothing incriminating again and he only had two days left before _he_ would put an end to this game. He needed to earn Thorne's trust and get him to open up. "Of course. Good day, Mr. Thorne."

* * *

 

It was dusk when Edward returned to his apartment, having run errands while he was out in case Thorne had him followed. He hung his hat and cane upon his coat rack before taking off his suit jacket and hanging it up. He loosened his tie and sighed. He'd held Thorne off for now, but he would need to deliver something tangible to him tomorrow to prevent any suspicion. He'd have to give a name. He ran a hand through his hair. Not Veronica or her family. She'd been too good to him. Not anyone who had been a client either. Candace had gotten too close to Bruce for comfort. No matter what, his name couldn't come up again. So then, who? Who was he going to expose to Thorne? He felt a slight breeze waft through his office and he relaxed slightly. "I haven't kept you waiting, have I?"

"No," Batman answered. Edward turned to see the man walk around his desk and up to him. He stopped inches away. "Are you alright?"

Edward nodded. "Thorne isn't any wiser to my game, but I'll need to give him information tomorrow to keep him that way."

"What kind of information?"

Edward rubbed his shoulder. "I...might have said that a socialite is funding Batman's activities to get him away from the idea of unmasking him specifically."

"I see." He wasn't angry, Edward noticed. He seemed matter of fact. "Will you?"

"I don't want to," Edward admitted. "But I don't see any way I can avoid it."

"I thought as much," the vigilante said. For the first time, Edward noticed that he was carrying a manilla envelope. He handed it over to Edward. "This is a fake profile I've put together. There's a picture and some basic biographical information. It should be enough to fool Thorne for the time being."

Edward pulled out the paperwork and looked at the photograph. It was of a square-jawed man with a hideous haircut and familiar blue eyes. He scanned the name and did a double take. "'Coleman Reese'?" Edward asked. "Mr. Reese? Mysteries? Seriously?"

"Thought you might pick up on that."

Edward put the paperwork back in the envelope and chuckled. "Never thought you'd have much of a sense of humor. So," he said looking up. "You just happen to have a fake profile ready to go? You really are prepared for everything."

"I try to be," Batman said. "There are some things though that I couldn't anticipate. Some people I never thought to prepare for."

Edward rubbed the back of his neck. "Was I-" his face flushed. "Am I one of those people?"

Batman was silent for a long moment. He took a step forward and Edward felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. "Yes," he admitted. He was so close if he leaned down just an inch, he could-"Do you still feel safe around Thorne?"

Edward bit back a curse. "Yes," he said. He shook his head. "Honestly, you're a bit over-protective."

"I think I have a good reason to be."

"May I remind you that I personally dragged you out of a burning building and drove you to medical attention?" Edward placed his hands on his hips and glared up at the Dark Knight. "I can handle myself for two more days."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Batman's glove on his shoulder. "I know. Hopefully, you'll only need one day."

For such a powerfully built man, he had a gentle touch. Edward craved it more than anything. He wanted to melt into it. Impulsively, he grasped Batman's other hand and leaned his face upwards. "You know," he said. "Once this is over, it would be nice to talk to you about something other than Rupert Thorne."

Batman's facial expression didn't change, at least not that Edward could detect, but he felt the vigilante's hand slowly tighten around his own. "Yes," he said. "It would." Edward's heart leaped up and he closed his eyes almost expectantly. Then he felt Batman's grip loosen. He opened his eyes to see him climbing out the window to the fire escape. "Be safe, Edward," he said without looking back. "I'll be back tomorrow night." Then he disappeared.

Edward stood alone in his office and pouted. He'd been so close. Tomorrow. He'd get Thorne and Batman to open up to him tomorrow or he'd die trying.

* * *

 

Standing in front of the desk, Edward watched Thorne thumb through the contents of the manilla envelope with a mix of impatience and apprehension. It was a masterful forgery, Edward had to admit, but would Thorne see through it? Finally, Thorne put the papers down on his desk and looked up at Edward with a smile. "Well done, Mr. Nigma," he said. "Two days and you've found a potential source of Batman's income?" 

Edward shrugged. "One credible suspect at least. Mr. Reese, in his position as CEO of a Tech corporation, has the ability to funnel tech Batman's way. He also donates extensively to law enforcement organizations in Gotham City. I think he's a more than credible lead. I've begun going through his financial records for proof, but it may take a while. I'm also looking into a few other suspects."

"Excellent!" Thorne said with a clap of his hands. "I should have hired you a long time ago. You're certainly less messy than my last hired help was."

Edward's ears pricked up. O'Reilly. Thorne was smart enough not to mention him by name, but that was the only person he could mean. He had him. He had him now. "Well," Edward said. "I do pride myself on my efficiency."

Thorne got out of his chair and extended his hand out. Edward narrowed his eyes, but took the hand and shook it, thankful for his habit of wearing gloves. "How would you like to join me for dinner tonight at the Falcon Club?" Thorne asked. 

"I'm flattered, but I do have work I need to take care of," Edward answered.

Thorne shook his head. "Busy man. I like that. Well, don't let me keep you from it. Just come back tomorrow at Three. Depending on what you find out," Thorne smirked as he spoke. "I may decide to offer you a more permanent position in my organization."

I'd sooner have myself committed to Arkham Asylum than have anything to do with you and your organization, Edward thought. He smiled all the same. "I'll consider it. Thank you very much, Mr. Thorne." Edward withdrew his hand and tipped his hat to the man. "Until tomorrow." He turned and walked out the door and down the hall.

It took all that he had to avoid giggling as he made his way to the elevator. He had him. The fat fool actually wanted him to join his organization! Just one more slip, and he'd have Thorne dead to rights. He'd finally bring him down once and for all. When he told Batman tonight, the vigilante would want to kiss him. Well, at least Edward hoped so. He'd be pleased with him regardless. He passed a group of men in the hall walking towards Thorne's office but was too focused on thoughts both vengeful and romantic to pay them much mind. 

By that time tomorrow, he would regret not looking at one of the men more closely, for the man had noticed him. Noticed and recognized him.

* * *

 

"Hey, Rupe? A couple of the boys found someone they think you should see."

Thorne sat back down at his desk, reading through the paperwork Nigma had left him. The private detective had exceeded all expectations so far, which left him in a good mood. "Alright. Send them in, Candace."

His office door opened and two of his enforcers came in, half escorting, half dragging a third man between them. Thorne looked up. The man in the middle paled when he met his gaze. He was a tall, well-built man. He looked vaguely familiar. "And you are?"

"This is Tom Dougherty boss," one of his enforcers said. "He used to be one of your guys in GCPD."

Tom Dougherty. Now Thorne remembered. "Ah, Officer Dougherty," he said. "I remember you." He scowled. "I remember you stole from me! Then you ran away for five years!"

Dougherty trembled and might have collapsed if the two men on either side of him didn't have such a firm grip on his shoulders. "Mr. Thorne, I'm sorry, I-"

Thorne banged his fist on the table. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you fed to the sharks!"

"No, boss!" Dougherty squealed. "I can explain-"

"We're a bit past explanations," Thorne growled. He gestured to his enforcers. "Take him to the docks-"

"No, wait!" Dougherty interrupted, with a desperate look on his face. "That guy who just left your office! The guy in the green suit! He's a cop!"

Thorne paused. "Mr. Nigma? Is that who you're talking about? There's a slight difference between a private detective and a cop, Dougherty. You ought to know that!"

"No, he really is a cop! His name's Nashton. Edward Nashton. I knew him in GCPD. Five years ago, he was a detective in Cybercrime's division!"

A detective? Was Nigma, or Nashton, or whoever he was, really attempting to take him for a ride? Was he really that arrogant, or was Dougherty that desperate? "Used to be? What happened?"

Dougherty had calmed down now, recounting the tale. "I used to date his dumb bitch friend in GCPD. I dumped her, she went crying to him that I beat her and he framed me! He's the reason I had to run, boss!"

Now Thorne knew Dougherty was lying. "He framed you for theft, did he? I suppose he magically made a couple thousand I was supposed to collect disappear, Dougherty? How stupid do you think I am? If he was a detective, why isn't he still in GCPD? Was he dirty?" Thorne could work with a dirty cop. It would explain quite a bit about Nigma, actually.

"No, he wasn't dirty! He hated mobsters! I'm telling you, he's playing you, boss! I can prove he used to be in GCPD!" 

Thorne leaned back in his leather chair and considered this. Dougherty was lying about the money, that was obvious. He'd say anything to save his own skin. But if there was the slightest chance Nigma used to be in GCPD, Thorne needed to take care of that. Finally, he snapped his fingers and his enforcers stepped forward. "Walk Officer Dougherty through our GCPD files and see if he can spot Mr. Nigma. You have two hours." The enforcers nodded, then took Dougherty to a side room. Candace walked forward, shaking her head.

"What do you think, Rupe? Is he telling the truth about Nigma?"

"Oh, I'm certain he's lying about many things, but we need to be absolutely sure. It's not Nigma being a former cop that bothers me. Half the guys on my payroll are or used to be cops. It's the fact that if he was one, he's concealing it. He changed his name even. Why?" 

Candace shrugged. "If he was as clean as Dougherty says he was, why would he be a private detective? Those guys are sleazy. He probably got turned down for a raise or a promotion and quit. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Thorne rubbed his chin. "A man can change a lot in five years," he murmured. "But just to be sure...Candace, follow him back to his office and keep an eye on him. Make sure he hasn't been making any visits to GCPD."


	15. Truth All Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truths come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: homophobic language in this chapter

Candace took another look at her watch and scowled. 9:00 pm. She'd been parked in a car across the street from Nigma's office building for the past five hours, ever since she'd caught up with him and followed him back from Rupe's office. He'd gone in and hadn't left. Occasionally, she could spot him moving about his office, his green-clad from unmistakeable. He hadn't received any visitors either. He might have made or received phone calls, but then again, if Nigma was working with the GCPD to investigate him, wouldn't Rupe's sources have tipped them off? She impatiently drummed the steering wheel of her car. This was a waste of a perfectly good evening. Either Nigma was more cautious than his attitude suggested, or Dougherty was saying anything he could think of to save his own skin, and Candace had a pretty good idea which was the case. She turned the key in her ignition and put the car into drive. 

She'd pulled away from the curb and begun driving down the street when a movement in the alley between Nigma's building and the next caught her eye. She turned and nearly slammed on the brakes. Batman was on the fire escape, opening the window into Nigma's office. Candace's jaw dropped. Had Nigma managed to lure Batman to him? Or...her thoughts darkened, was Nigma working with Batman all along? As soon as Batman entered the building, she pulled her car just past the alleyway and parked it before dashing to the alley. Taking great care to hide in the shadows, she pulled a camera out of her purse and looked up towards the fire escape. Time to find out just who Edward Nigma really was.

* * *

 

 

Bruce listened intently to the recording Edward had made of Thorne that day, focusing on the exact words the gangster spoke and not the eager look on Edward's face. Edward had wanted to kiss him last night. If Bruce had granted that request like he wanted to, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. There would be time for that later. For now, he handed the recording device back to Edward when it had stopped.

"This is it," Edward said. "This is proof that Thorne was behind the Maroni and Falcone attacks!"

"Not quite," Bruce said. "He doesn't name O'Reilly or mention the killings."

Edward let out an exasperated groan. "Well, what else could he have meant!? Look at the words he uses! 'Messy'.'Hired help.' And the timing! It fits perfectly!"

"You know that and I know that," Bruce said. "But the expensive lawyer Thorne has on retainer will poke holes into this until it collapses. We need to have Thorne absolutely dead to rights if we're going to put him away for good."

Edward huffed and folded his arms, but he seemed to acknowledge Bruce's point. "Fine. Tomorrow. I'll have him on the record tomorrow. He seems to trust me enough to let his guard down around me." Edward shook his head. "He even offered me a position in his organization if you can imagine that!"

As much as it made Bruce's stomach clench, he could see the advantage in Thorne trusting Edward. "You're not taking him up on that. One way another, this ends tomorrow."

Edward sighed. "I know. But I'll get him to confess or so help me..." his voice trailed off and he looked back towards his whiteboard, still with Thorne's picture dead center, surrounded by photographs of all the carnage he'd caused. "I'm so close. I'm so close to being able to take him down I can taste it. I won't fail, I promise. I won't fail Kristen and I won't fail you."

Bruce was taken aback slightly. "Fail me?"

Edward ran a hand through his hair and let out a nervous laugh. "Do you remember that first night, when you said I must have had good intentions when I joined GCPD?" He shook his head again. "I didn't. Not really. I joined Cyber Crime because I wanted the challenge. I enjoyed solving cases because I enjoyed solving puzzles, not because I thought I was doing any actual good. I didn't really care about this city or anyone in it. Then I met Kristen, and Nina and Deirdre, and Gordon and I started to care about them. I still thought this city was too far gone." He rubbed his shoulder and Bruce could see his face flush just a bit. "You were really what changed that."

"I was?" Bruce asked. "Even before we met?"

Edward nodded. "When I first heard about you, for a long time, I thought you were just a criminal too. I mean, risking your life night in and night out to fight the scum of this city? No one's that selfless. I half wanted to expose you for who you really were, but then, when the Joker had that gas bomb at the children's home seven years ago, and he'd detonate it if you didn't show up without your utility belt? I thought for sure you wouldn't do it."

Bruce remembered that all too clearly. He'd barely survived that, much to Dick and Alfred's dismay. "But I did."

"You did. And that's when I could finally accept that you were every bit the hero Gordon thought you were." Edward let out another little laugh. "And then I started to think, well, if one man in a mask could bring down Gotham's worst, why couldn't a genius like myself?" Edward smiled at Bruce in earnest. "You gave me faith in humanity back. I wouldn't have ever stood up to Loeb, or become a private investigator if it wasn't for you."

Bruce had heard this sentiment before from people he'd saved or inspired in the past, but it seemed all the sweeter coming from Edward. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're the one who made the decision to do good, Edward. Never forget that."

Edward shrugged and his smile turned into his usual smirk. "I know. Just thought I'd try being humble for a change."

Bruce snorted a bit at that. "Really? And how long is that going to last?"

Edward chuckled. "It ended approximately thirty seconds ago." He laughed a bit and Bruce fondly shook his head. Edward's mood then shifted and he looked at Bruce. "Not that I don't think I can do it," he said. "But if Thorne doesn't incriminate himself, what next?"

That was a question Bruce had pondered more than once since this scheme had started. "We'll find another way."

"We?" Edward repeated, his face brightening up again.

"Yes." Bruce realized that his hand was still on Edward's left shoulder. He rubbed it slightly. "I should have said this a few nights ago," he said softly. "But I got side-tracked. I'm sorry that I pushed you away."

Edward's brow furrowed. "I know why you did it-"

"No," Bruce interrupted. "Not entirely." He took a deep breath. Now or never. "I was trying to protect you, but it wasn't because I had any doubts about your capabilities. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met. It was because," he moved his hand from Edward's shoulder to cup his face. "It was because Rupert Thorne and men like him have caused so much pain for this city. Hurt so many people. So many good people. I've lost people I loved to men like him. And I couldn't stand the thought that...so soon after I met you, I might lose you too."

Edward's face turned red and he drew in a sharp breath. "Are...are you trying to tell me...you...love me?"

"I don't know," Bruce answered truthfully. Edward deserved that much from him. "But I feel something towards you. It almost scares me how strong it is." Edward said nothing, looking down at his feet and Bruce felt his heart sink. It was the wrong time. He'd said the wrong thing. He withdrew his hands and took a step back. "I'll go now." He turned away from Edward and walked towards the window. He'd stepped on to the fire escape and had reached down to pull out his grappling hook when a sharp cry stopped him.

_"Wait!"_

Bruce turned to see Edward making a mad dash across his office towards the window, he clambered out, nearly tripping on the windowsill in his haste to reach him. Bruce caught him to steady him and soon Edward had both of his hands bunched on the front of his suit. "You can't just leave after telling me something like that!"

"Edward," Bruce said. "Whatever I feel, you're not obligated to-"

"Obligated!?" Edward shouted back. "After everything I've done for you, you think-you-you moron! Do I have to spell everything out for you!?" He looked up at Bruce, with wide, beseeching green eyes. "I love you! You idiot, I love you!"

There it was. The final confession. Bruce couldn't hold himself back at that point. Before Edward could yell anything else at him, Bruce grasped his shoulders and leaned down. Edward leaned up and on the fire escape, in the dead of night, their lips finally met. This was risky. It was downright stupid. But nothing had ever felt more right to Bruce than to have this impossible, brilliant man in his arms. Edward moaned deeply and threw his hands around Bruce's neck, which caused him to tighten his grip. Finally, reluctantly, Bruce broke away to breath. Edward was looking up at him, his face flushed, his eyes lidded and even more green than before. "What are we?" he asked, slightly dazed. "What is this?"

Bruce traced his thumb across Edward's lips. "We'll figure it out," he said. "Together. If that's what you want."

Edward let out an incredulous laugh. "It's only what I've wanted since I met you," he said. "Do you want to stay with me? Talk about it?"

Bruce wanted to, more than anything. "I have to go on patrol," he answered and he tried not to cringe at the disappointed look on Edward's face. "I'll be back tomorrow and we'll talk about it then. I promise."

Edward nodded. "Duty calls, I suppose. I'm going to hold you to that though. I mean it. I'll break into GCPD and use the bat-signal if I have to."

He would too, Bruce thought. He leaned down and gave Edward a quick kiss. "I'll be back. We'll figure everything out tomorrow night."

Edward took a step back and smiled. "Go get them, partner."

Bruce smiled, then pulled out his grappling hook. He took aim at the neighboring building's roof and fired, and within a moment, he was flying up into the night sky with a lighter heart than he'd had for years.

* * *

 

 

Candace waited until Nigma had climbed back into his office and shut the window behind him before she dared emerge from her hiding place. She put her camera, which she'd nearly dropped back into her purse and ran back to her car, her heart pounding in her ears. Just wait until Rupe and the boys heard this! They'd never believe her.

Not until they saw the pictures, at least.

* * *

 

 

Edward had barely slept the night before, but as he made his way into Thorne's building, he'd never felt more alive. He hummed an old Gene Kelly tune and practically danced his way to the elevator, to the amusement and annoyance of the people around him. He practically bounced on the heels of his feet as he rode the elevator up to Thorne's office. Today, today, he'd get Thorne to confess. And then tonight, tonight, he and Batman would...his face flushed at the memory of the kiss last night. They'd have a lot to talk about. There was one secret Edward still had to confess after all. Tonight though? Tonight was the night he'd finally get everything he wanted. The elevator door opened and he walked out, twirling his cane. When he stood outside the office door, he quickly tapped the button under the head of the cane. Time to get serious now. At this stage of the game, he couldn't afford any slip-ups. He gave three sharp knocks on the door.

"Come in," Thorne's voice sounded from within. 

Edward took a breath, smoothed down his shirt, then opened the door to his destiny. 

Thorne was sitting at his desk, as usual. What was unusual, was the number of people in the office. Edward heard the door shut behind him and saw three of Thorne's enforcers behind him. He turned towards Thorne and noticed for the first time the two people standing next to him. One was Candace, looking like the cat who had got the cream, but that wasn't unusual. The other was also a person known to Edward. A person he thought he'd never see again. He nearly dropped his cane in shock.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Nigma," Thorne addressed him with a smirk and Edward knew at that moment the jig was up. He gestured to the man standing next to him. "I believe you know this man here?"

"Tom Dougherty," Edward whispered. He remembered him, every smug word, every bruise he'd left on Kristen, every tear he'd caused, every night he'd spent in the hospital sitting next to her broken body. He gripped his cane with a new fury. _"You son of a bitch!"_

He'd taken two steps towards the man when the three enforcers were on him, one taking his cane away and tossing it aside, the other two grabbing hold of him and dragging him towards the desk. Edward struggled but to no avail. They brought him straight to Thorne. Dougherty laughed, then took a step forward. "Nice to see you too, _Eddie._ " Then drawing his fist back, he punched Edward hard in the gut, making him nearly double over. "That's for making me go in hiding, you fucking fag!"

Edward drew his head up, then spit at Dougherty's shoes. Thorne laughed. "I see you remember your old friend, Mr. Nigma. Or should I say, Detective Nashton?" When Edward didn't respond, Thorne continued. "Mr. Dougherty here tipped me off that you used to be in GCPD. Now I'll admit, I was a bit put out when you didn't tell me that you used to be a cop, but I wasn't too suspicious. After all, you should know that I have many of Gotham's finest in my employ. Just to be safe, I had Candace follow you, just to make sure you weren't still working for Gordon. Imagine her surprise when she found out who you were working for." Thorne pulled out a desk drawer and placed papers on top of his desk. Photographs. Edward looked and his heart almost stopped when he saw the contents. Him and Batman on the fire escape, Batman holding him, him and Batman kissing...no. Oh no. Thorne let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Who would have guessed, the Dark Knight himself _bats_ for the same team?" He and the enforcers let out loud, obnoxious laughter at that pun, before Thorne's face darkened. "You've been playing me, Mr. Nigma. I don't like being played. What's your game? Why are you trying to take me down?"

Edward glared at Thorne. "You employed Dougherty."

"Dougherty?" Thorne questioned. "What did he do to you?"

"You wouldn't care," Edward seethed. "But five years ago, he put my friend in the hospital. He abused her. Loeb looked the other way and you employed him. I swore whatever it took, I'd take you down. I've been under your nose for five years, you ignorant _swine_."

Thorne raised a brow. "A girl? You did all of this because Dougherty here was a little slap happy with a girl?" He shook his head, almost sadly. "What a waste. I was actually starting to become fond of you. So I'll give you this one chance to save yourself." Thorne leaned a bit closer to Edward. "If you're his lover, you're in a perfect position to know: who is Batman?"

Edward took a deep breath, then bit out with as much venom as he could, "He's the man who's going to take you down. Even if you kill me, I've already given him everything I have on you. No matter what happens, he'll stop you!"

The gangster's face reddened in anger. Then Thorne smiled and Edward felt a chill down his spine. "Your loyalty to your Batman is touching," he drawled. "I wonder, just how loyal is he to you?"

No. Oh no. "You bastard!" He tried to surge forward, only to be pulled back. He felt both of his arms being forced behind his back, then his hands were bound. He struggled, futilely, then glared back at Thorne. "He won't stop coming after you to save me!"

"No?" Thorne asked. "For your sake, Mr. Nigma, I hope you're wrong. He nodded to his enforcers. "Take him down the side exit and then take him to the warehouse across the river," Thorne ordered. "Then get the word out on the streets. At midnight, Edward Nigma dies." Edward's stomach dropped. No, no no. "Call in the rest of the boys and tell them to have sniper rifles ready to go. Oh, and take Dougherty with you. I'm sure Mr. Nigma would appreciate having some quality time with his old friend." Thorne then smiled at Edward again. "It seems you'll still be of some use to me after all, Mr. Nigma."

Edward tried one last time to break free, to land some kind of blow on Thorne, but he was held back. Then he was being dragged towards the office door. "You evil-" A gloved hand covered his mouth, stifling his curses. He heard the distinct sound of a roll of tape, and the hand was removed long enough for a long strip to cover his mouth. He glared futilely at Thorne and Candace, who gave him a mocking wave goodbye. Then he was being dragged again out of the office, down the side stairs well out of sight of other denizens of the building, then shoved into the trunk of a car. The trunk was slammed tight and the car was soon in motion. Only then, did Edward give in to despair. _Don't come for me,_ he thought. _Please. Don't come for me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left!


	16. Game, Set, Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce must make his final play if he is to save Edward and take down Thorne.

Bruce was, uncharacteristically, almost light-hearted as he drove the Batmobile into Park Row. He checked the clock on the dashboard. 8:45 pm. He'd make it to Edward's office by 9. Hopefully, Edward had proved as good as his word and had gotten Thorne to incriminate himself on tape. Even if not, Bruce was looking forward to seeing his partner again, especially now that they were partners in more than one sense of the term.

 _"So,"_ Dick's voice broke through on the intercom. _"When do I get to meet Eddie?"_

Bruce smiled a bit. "You already have."

 _"You know what I mean. It'll be nice to have another crime-fighter in the cave with us. Alfred's looking forward to seeing him again too."_ That was an understatement. Alfred had been happier than Bruce could remember him seeing for some time when he'd told him about what had happened last night. He was about to speak when Dick interrupted. _"Hold on. The police scanner's picking up some kind of disturbance at the Treasure Chest Bar in downtown."_

Bruce furrowed his brow. Treasure Chest Bar or Pandora's Box? Was something going on with Edward's friends? "I'll go check it out." Bruce made a sharp right turn and drove back towards Gotham's center. Edward would understand if he was a few minutes late.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce made it to the bar before GCPD did, fortunately, as a crowd was gathered outside. Most of the people made way for him as soon as he got out of his car and went inside. The same bartender from when he and Edward had come weeks before was there to meet him at the door, with his eyes wide. "Man, I'm glad you're here! They're gonna kill him!"

"What's going on?" Bruce asked.

Doug shook his head. "I don't know man! Someone from the club just came running up here and said that Nina and Deirdre were wailing on some guy!"

Bruce grit his teeth. Of all the nights. "I'll take care of it. Where are they?"

"Downstairs, by the entrance to Pandora's Box!"

Bruce went to the panel, which he noticed was already open, and head downstairs. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he saw three figures standing over a fourth, who was lying on their side. Two of them were clearly Vance and Damfino. Bruce startled when he realized that the third person standing was Kristen. What was she doing here? Vance and Damfino were taking turns kicking the prone figure, who let out a cry each time a blow landed. Bruce hurried to break it up. "That's enough!"

The three women turned, Vance and Damfino angry, Kristen relieved. She ran up to Bruce as he approached. "Oh, thank God! Is Eddie with you?"

Bruce was alarmed by the frantic tone in her voice. "No," he said. "I was on my way to his apartment before-"

Kristen's face crumpled. "He's not there," she said, tears coming to her eyes. "We were supposed to meet up for dinner tonight, but he never showed up. I called, but he never answered. I went to his apartment, but he wasn't there. I came here to see if he was here, but no one here's seen him either and then-" she began to sob.

Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her and himself down. "It's alright." Then he turned to Vance and Damfino. "Have either of you heard from him?"

"No," Vance said. She then looked back down at the cowering man, still sprawled on the ground. "But not too long after Kristen showed up, this piece of shit here started running his mouth about how Eddie was gonna die tonight!"

At that, Bruce saw red. He gently pushed Kristen aside before grabbing the man by his shirt collar and shoving him against the brick wall of the tunnel. The man let out a grunt. "Alright, scumbag," Bruce growled, and the vehemence made even Vance and Damfino step back. "You're going to tell me exactly what I want to know."

"Or else what?" the man had the audacity to ask. "You ain't gonna kill me."

"No," Bruce said, lowering his voice even further. He shifted his grip, his hand clenching around the man's throat, making his eyes begin to bulge out. "But I _will_ hurt you. Now I'm only going to ask you just this once. Where is Edward Nigma?"

The man wheezed and held his hands up. "Ok! Ok! I'll talk! I'll tell you where your boyfriend is!"

Boyfriend? How-No. Thorne had someone watching Edward. They must have seen them on the fire escape last night. How could he have been so stupid? He'd practically gift-wrapped Edward for Thorne. _Focus, Bruce,_ he thought. He willed himself out of his spiral of guilt and listened to what the man was saying. "The boss had a couple of the guys take him to a warehouse he has in New York, along the river! 6125 Shore Avenue! He said that they were gonna kill him at midnight!"

"Unless I show up," Bruce finished. "Thank you." Then he punched the man straight in the stomach, hard. He let the man drop to the ground and turned to see the three women with angry looks on their faces. 

"You said you'd look after him," Kristen blurted out. "You promised me!"

"I'm sorry," Bruce said. "I'll save him. I swear on my life."

"We're coming with you," Damfino said. 

"No. You three call the GCPD. Kristen, tell Gordon what's going on and tell him I said to send a team to that address. I'm ending this." Without waiting for a reply, Bruce dashed back up from where he came, passing the bartender without a word, making his way through the crowd and jumping into the Batmobile. As soon as he had the ignition on, he entered the address into his GPS and hit the gas. "Dick, send me the schematics for a warehouse on 6125 Shore Avenue in New York, now!"

_"Sending it to you now. What's going on?"_

Bruce tightened his grip around the steering wheel. "Thorne has Edward. He's being held at that address."

Over the intercom, Bruce heard Dick's sharp intake of breath. _"Oh, man. OK, you should have the schematics now."_ A beep from the onboard computer told Bruce that Dick's message had been sent. _"I guess there's no use telling you that this is a trap, right?"_

"I'll check in when I get there. Batman out." Bruce cut the communication and pressed his foot harder on the gas. _I'm coming, Edward. Hold on._

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce parked the Batmobile out of sight a block away from the warehouse, making the rest of the journey by crossing the rooftops of the neighboring buildings. Now, he was perched on the roof of an abandoned warehouse right next to Thorne's, watching and waiting. Like Falcone and Maroni before him, Thorne had kept this warehouse for storing his ill-gotten gains out of GCPD's jurisdiction. Now that Falcone and Maroni were gone, Thorne had taken over their old storage spaces, leaving this one abandoned. The only signs of life that Bruce could spot now were four men the grounds and the red light of the sniper rifles scopes they carried. Clearly, they were expecting him. Bruce pressed the communication button in his cowl. "Dick, I'm here."

_"OK. I talked to Gordon. He's assembling some people now, but it'll be at least an hour before they can get there. He's also got some officers watching Thorne for now, but they're holding off on bringing him in. He says this is all off the scanners, just in case Thorne has his people listening in."_

It was a good idea on Gordon's part. If Thorne got any hint that the net was closing in, Edward was as good as dead. "Alright. I've read over the schematics you sent me. I'm going in."

_"Good luck, Bruce. Let me know if there's anything else I can do."_

"Stay in communication with Gordon. I'll call in when this is over. Batman out." Bruce cut off the link and turned back to the front of the warehouse. According to the blueprints, there were three entry points into the warehouse. Front entrance, back entrance, and a rooftop window just big enough for him to get in. The window would be the best option, but first, he needed to be rid of the snipers. Bruce watched as the four patrolled around the perimeter of the warehouse. Taking them head-on would be suicide. He could throw down a smoke grenade, but the ensuing chaos would alert anyone in the warehouse to his presence, and Edward would get caught in the crossfire. The best option was to silently take them out, one by one. Bruce waited until one of the snipers went around the back of the warehouse, into the alleyway right underneath where Bruce himself stood. Target acquired. Bruce waited until the man had walked a few feet past his vantage point, then silently dropped down from the rooftop, using his cape to glide down. He landed with a soft crunch on gravel, but the sniper didn't notice. Perfect. Bruce walked slowly behind the man until he was behind him. In the blink of an eye, Bruce had his arms wrapped around the man's mouth and throat. The man dropped the gun and struggled, but within seconds, had gone limp. Bruce gently laid him to the ground. One down, three to go.

 

* * *

 

 

The last sniper went down as easily as the first three had, never even having the opportunity to draw his weapon. Bruce laid him down on the ground like he had the others, then fired his grappling hook up to the rooftop. The easy work was done. Now it was time to get in. Bruce felt his stomach clench as he pulled himself up to the roof and walked to the window. He hoped that Thorne had been honest when he told his men that Edward would die at midnight and that he wasn't already dead. If he was...Bruce clenched his fist. There would be no place on this Earth that Thorne could hide from him. Bruce reached the window and leaned down, looking into the warehouse for the first time. There were few lights on, but it was bright enough for Bruce to see five armed men inside, bunched together under a catwalk around something. Bruce shifted a bit to get a better look and his breath caught in his throat. Sitting in a chair, gagged with duct tape, hands tied behind him and head slumped over, was Edward. He sat completely still and his eyes were closed. He looked dead. Then one of the men, a tall man with brown hair and a strong build, roughly shoved him on the shoulder and Edward looked up. Bruce was relieved that he was alive, but that relief turned to rage when he saw the bruises on his face. The man laughed at that point and Edward glared up at him, still defiant despite his predicament. Pulling out a glasscutter from his utility belt, Bruce carefully cut out a portion of the glass, setting it aside once he was done. Now he was able to hear the man as he spoke to Edward.

"Hey Eddie," the man half spoke, half laughed. "How's Kristen doing? Does she miss me?" So this was Tom Dougherty. Bruce's eyes narrowed as he watched Edward's posture stiffen. Dougherty pulled something out of his back pocket and dangled it in front of Edward. Bruce realized that it was a cell phone. "You got her number in here, right Eddie? Want me to give her a call?"

Edward leaned forward then, no doubt trying to attack Dougherty. Dougherty laughed, then backhanded him, snapping his head back from the force of the blow. Edward let out a muffled cry of pain, and it took all of Bruce's years of training to stop himself from diving in and breaking Dougherty in two. The other men were too close. They'd need to spread out a bit before Bruce could think about launching an attack. For now, all Bruce could do was watch and wait. Dougherty walked back towards the group, shaking his hand. "You know," he said. "If I'd known back then you were a fag, I might not have cared Kristen was hanging around you so much. Oh, well. I'll have plenty of time to meet up with her later."

"You really think Batman'll show up?" Another man asked. 

"You saw the picture. He'll come runnin' to save his little boyfriend. And if he doesn't, I'll have a lot of fun throwing Eddie face first in the Hudson," Dougherty laughed. "Fuck, I'll be able to do that even if Batman does show up."

A third man shook his head. "You talk tough, Dougherty, but you've never seen Batman in action. Not like we have. If this guy really is his boyfriend, he's gonna destroy us to get him back."

That was true, Bruce thought. Now that the men were engaged in conversation with each other, he took the time to reach a hand in and unlatch the window. As soon as it was opened, he slid inside, gently dropping down to the catwalk just above Edward. He flashed a quick look. None of Thorne's men had noticed him enter, but Edward had. His green eyes were large as saucers as he looked up into Bruce's and they seemed to be trying to convey every emotion to him. Anger, fear, regret, love. He stirred just a bit and Bruce raised a finger to his lips. _Don't make a sound._ Then he gave him a small nod. _Hold tight. I'll be down there soon._ Bruce had no idea whether Edward could read his movements for what they were, but his eyes softened and he relaxed, as much as he could in his position at least, and looked back towards his captors. 

"What time is it, anyway?" One of the men asked.

Another checked his watch. "10:45. Why? You got somewhere to be?"

The first man reached up and rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know, I just thought Batman would've shown up by now."

"If he did, the snipers would have gotten him," Dougherty said. 

"Where are those guys, anyway?" Another asked. "We haven't heard from 'em in almost half an hour."

"I'll check," the fourth said. He walked away from the group towards the front entrance. Bruce waited until he was out of sight, then walked a bit further up the catwalk. He needed to draw more of them away from Edward before he attacked. He pulled a batarang out from the side of his utility belt and threw it across the warehouse. It impacted the wall with a metallic ping, just noticeable enough for the men to look to the far left side of the warehouse.

"The fuck was that?" one asked.

"Go check it out," Dougherty ordered. "I'll stay by Nigma."

"Boss didn't say you could order us around, Dougherty," the man growled, but he and another man walked towards the sound anyway. When they were halfway across, the thug he had left came running back in, panicked. 

"Guys! The snipers are all out cold! He's here!"

 _Now._ Bruce took his smoke pellets out of his belt and threw them down where the three thugs were bunched up. The pellets exploded on contact with the cement floor and smoke began to envelop the warehouse. Bruce jumped down onto the floor, just behind the two men, now flailing their guns about. Bruce grabbed them both by the back of their necks and smacked their heads against each other, knocking them out cold. The third man by the door began firing in his direction but missed thanks to the smoke. Bruce was just thankful that Edward was out of range. Moving quickly, Bruce climbed a pallet to his left, enabling him to see the third man looking around, panic written on his face.

"Where are you, where are you!?" the man shouted.

"Look up," Bruce drawled. As soon as the man did, Bruce jumped down, knocking him to the ground with a well-placed kick. Three down. 

"Where are you going!?" Bruce heard Dougherty scream. Now that he was faced with the prospect of actually coming face to face with Batman, his earlier cockiness had been replaced by fear. 

"I knew this was a bad idea! I'm outta here!" Bruce heard running footsteps heading towards the back entrance. Gordon and his men would catch him soon enough. Now all that stood between him and Edward was Dougherty himself.

"Hey, Batman! Come out where I can see you or I'll kill your boyfriend!"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Through the smoke, he could see that Dougherty had pulled Edward out of the chair and had one arm wrapped tightly around his neck and his gun held against his temple. Just like O'Reilly had in that apartment all those weeks ago. "I'll do it!" Dougherty yelled again. "I'll blow his frickin' head off!"

"Give it up, Dougherty," Bruce spoke, slowly walking into the smoke plume. "You're alone. There's no scenario where you can walk out of here. Let him go."

Dougherty fired his gun up in the air. "Last warning! The next bullet's goin' in his skull!"

Bruce emerged from the smoke, now only ten feet away from Dougherty and Edward. "Here I am, Dougherty," he growled. "Now, _let him go_."

Dougherty's hand went straight to pointing the gun back at Edward. "No way. No way. We're walkin' out of here, just as soon as you put your hands up, nice and slow." Edward let out an inarticulate cry through the gag and frantically shook his head, causing Dougherty to tighten his grip. "Do it! Or I swear to God, I'll kill him!"

Bruce took one step closer. "If you do that," he spoke slowly, "What stops me from breaking every bone in your body?"

Dougherty froze at that and the hand that was holding the gun dropped slightly. His grip on Edward loosened just enough for him to be able to jerk his head back, striking Dougherty in the face with the back of his head. Dougherty yelled in pain, shoving Edward to the ground and reaching up to staunch his bleeding nose. Bruce moved quickly then, carefully stepping over Edward and disarming Dougherty with a strike of his hand. With the other, he grabbed Dougherty by the collar and lifted him off the ground. Dougherty looked at him, terrified. "P-please," he muttered. "It wasn't my idea-"

"I don't care," was all Bruce said, before punching him in the jaw, hard. Dougherty went limp in his grasp and Bruce unceremoniously dropped him to the ground. He turned back to where Edward still on the ground, looking up at him with wide eyes. Bruce crouched down, his hands going to the tape on Edward's face. "This might hurt a bit. Try to stay still." Bruce ripped off the tape and Edward cursed. "Are you alright?" Bruce asked, quickly untying Edward's hands.

"You shouldn't have come after me," Edward said. "It was a trap, you could have been killed, why did you come after me? Why didn't you just get Thorne?"

As soon as Edward's hands were free, Bruce gently took them and helped his partner to his feet. He gently rubbed his wrists, drinking the man in. "I told you," he said. "Your safety means more to me than putting Thorne away."

Edward's eyes went soft, and not for the first time, Bruce was struck by just how lovely they were. The other man let out a small laugh. "You moron," he said. Then he threw his arms around Bruce. Bruce returned the embrace. Now that Edward was safe, in his arms again, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Rescued like a damsel in distress again," he heard Edward say. "The girls will never let hear the end of it."

"You'll live," Bruce said. A groan interrupted their moment. Dougherty still lay on the ground, whimpering in pain on his side. Edward gently extricated himself from Bruce's embrace and walked over to Dougherty.

"Kristen sends her regards," Edward bit out, before kicking Dougherty in the crotch, hard. Dougherty let out a high-pitched yelp, then fell silent. "I've been waiting five years to do that," Edward muttered, smoothing out the front of his shirt. 

Bruce let out a chuckle, then he heard Dick's voice through his communicator. _"Everything okay?"_

"I have Edward," Bruce answered, and Edward turned at the sound of his name. "We're leaving now."

_"Good. Tell Eddie I said hi!"_

Bruce let out a small smile. "Will do. Batman out."

"Was that Robin?" Edward asked.

"Yes. Gordon will be here in a few minutes with a team. They'll take care of Thorne's thugs."

"What about Thorne himself? I never did get him to admit to hiring O'Reilly!"

"You don't need to anymore," Bruce said. At the confused look on Edward's face, he clarified. "We've got him almost dead to rights on something worse. What happened to your cane?"

"It's back at Thorne's office, I think. I dropped it when Thorne's thugs grabbed me."

Bruce let out another smile. "Were you recording at the time?"

Edward nodded, then his mouth fell open when his brain caught up to what Bruce was saying. Then he smirked. 

 

* * *

 

 

After a short detour to Thorne's office, Edward, Bruce, and Gordon were outside the front door to his townhouse. As Gordon banged on the front door, Edward turned to Bruce. "May I do the honors?"

Bruce nodded. "By all means. This is your case, Edward."

Edward smiled, then took a deep breath. The door opened, and Candace appeared on the other side, her jaw dropping when she saw Edward. Edward gave her a mock wave. "Good evening. Is your boss still awake?"

Candace looked like she was about to slam the door, but Gordon cleared his throat. Reluctantly, she stepped aside and allowed the three men to enter. Edward went in first, followed by Gordon, Bruce taking the rear. Thorne was sitting in an armchair by his fireplace, still fully dressed despite the time. He and a few men were talking when the three entered. Thorne looked annoyed, then his face paled when he caught sight of Edward. "Mr. Nigma-"

"Yes, I'm still alive," Edward interrupted. "How inconvenient for you."

Thorne looked at Gordon. "I don't have any idea what he's-"

"Save it, Thorne," Gordon harshly interrupted. "I know everything. I just got done taking your men into custody at your New York warehouse."

"On what charges-"

"Kidnapping of yours truly of course," Edward interjected. "Not to mention the small fact that you ordered them to kill me."

Thorne's face reddened before he schooled himself back to a placid smile. "And what proof do you have that I ordered that? The word of some fruitcake ex-cop and a few toughs? That won't stand up in court."

"Just their testimony alone, perhaps not," Edward admitted. "Luckily for me, we don't need to take theirs or my testimony." Edward unscrewed the top of his cane and pulled out the recording device. Thorne's eyes nearly bulged out when he realized what Edward held in the palm of his hand. "I was so happy to see that you hadn't bothered to get rid of my cane. Keeping it as a trophy, no doubt. Now the only testimony we'll need is yours." Edward pressed play on the recorder and Thorne's voice filled the room.  _"Take him down the side exit and then take him to the warehouse across the river, then get the word out on the streets. At midnight, Edward Nigma dies."_ Edward pressed stopped and smiled smugly at Thorne. "I'm just full of surprises, aren't I? Any more dumb questions?"

For a long moment, no one in the room said anything. Thorne's face twisted in rage. Then, he laughed. "Very clever, Mr. Nigma. But if you think that's going to keep me in jail, you're sadly mistaken. Not a judge in Gotham will allow that into evidence."

Edward let out a laugh of his own then. "Not a judge on your payroll, you mean? Well, that doesn't matter either. You see, Commissioner Gordon's not here to take you to GCPD."

"Oh?" Thorne raised an eyebrow. "You just came to my home at one in the morning for a friendly chat?"

"Of course not," Edward rolled his eyes. "Do try to keep up, Rupert. You see, the Commissioner's here to deliver you to federal custody."

Bruce watched Thorne's black eyes widen and had to suppress a smirk of his own. "Federal custody? What in the Hell are you talking about?"

"You said it yourself on tape Thorne," Gordon explained. "You ordered your men to take him to your warehouse across the river. That's across the state line. Any kidnapping that crosses a state line is automatically a federal crime."

"That's right, Rupert," Edward taunted. "All of those Gotham cops, lawyers and judges that you have in your pocket? They'll be of absolutely no use to you now. You're going to do serious time in federal prison and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Not bad for a 'fruitcake ex-cop', eh?"

Thorne, who had gone rigid at the mention of federal crime, came to life then. He lunged out of his chair towards Edward. Bruce stepped forward then, and, grabbing him by his vest, tossed him across the room. Thorne landed on the carpet with a loud grunt. Before he could get up, Gordon was on him, putting handcuffs on. A few of the bolder men looked ready to intervene when Bruce took a step toward them. "If you don't want to spend a month in the hospital," he said. "I suggest you stay out of this." The men looked at him, then at each other, then hung back.

Gordon in the meantime had gotten Thorne to his feet and was dragging him towards the front door. "Candace, call my lawyer!" he bellowed at his shellshocked secretary. Then he glared at Edward. "You'll pay for this, Nigma! No matter how long it takes, I will make you suffer!"

"You can try," Edward said. "Goodbye, Rupert." Gordon then got Thorne out the door and Bruce and Edward followed. The feds were waiting outside for Thorne, taking them from Gordon and placing him into an unmarked car before driving off. As soon as they pulled away, Bruce and Edward walked to the Batmobile parked alongside the street. As soon as they reached it, Edward leaned against it and began to laugh. Bruce realized that tears were starting to come from Edward's eyes and he was at his partner's side in a second. 

"Are you alright?"

Edward wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked at Bruce with a wide smile. "I'm wonderful," he said. "I've been waiting for this day for five years. Now it's over. He's finally gone. We did it. Thank you. For everything."

Bruce smiled and rubbed Edward's shoulders. "Let's get you home. I have a feeling you're going to be very busy tomorrow."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! We just have an epilogue left!


	17. Epilogue: The New Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future looks bright for Gotham City and for Bruce and Edward's relationship.

_"This is Summer Gleeson with a breaking news bulletin. Notorious gang leader Rupert Thorne, once considered by many in Gotham to be untouchable, has been taken into custody on federal charges of kidnapping and attempted murder. Thorne was arrested early Thursday morning and handed over to federal custody by Commissioner Gordon while the rest of Thorne's accomplices were taken directly to GCPD headquarters. We'll bring you more updates as this story unfolds."_

* * *

 

The next two days were something of a blur for Edward. As soon as Batman had deposited him back at his apartment, he'd went to lie down on his bed all but passed out from exhaustion. He'd woken up to the late morning sun shining directly in his face. On his nightstand was a note neatly folded in half. Edward sat up and read it, knowing exactly who it was from.  _Kristen, Vance, and Damfino have been informed of your safe return. They'll be by to check on you in the morning. Gordon would like to speak with you as well when you're up to it. I'll be by to see you soon._

Edward smiled and folded the note back up before depositing it in his nightstand drawer. He hoped soon would be tonight. He had so much he still wanted to say to him. Almost on cue, he heard knocking on his front door. That would be the girls. "Coming!" Edward called out. He reached a hand up to smooth back his hair at least if he couldn't shower or even change out of his clothes yet. Sure enough, when he opened the door, Kristen, Nina, and Deirdre were standing on the other side. "Come on in," Edward ushered them into his living room.

Kristen was the first to speak, stepping forward with her arms held out, her hazel eyes tearing up. "Oh, Eddie!" she cried out, wrapping him in a tight hug. "We were so worried about you! Are you ok?"

Edward returned Kristen's embrace, kissing her forehead. "I'm alright, Kristen. I'm sorry."

Deirdre wasn't nearly as gentle as Kristen was, lightly cuffing him on the head. "You better be sorry! We told you working with Thorne was a bad idea!"

Edward gave Deirdre a pout. "Really? I was just rescued from the jaws of death and all you have to say to me is 'I told you so'?"

Deirdre rolled her eyes, then came over to hug him as well. "Idiot," she murmured. "Don't scare us like that again."

"I'll try," Edward said. He hugged Deirdre before letting her go to hug Nina.

"We watched the news this morning," Nina said. "Is it true that the Feds got Thorne?"

Edward flashed her a grin. It seemed like a dream to himself. "Not only is it true, I personally accompanied Batman and the Commissioner to Thorne's home and delivered the news to him this morning."

Kristen sank down on the couch. "Then that means...it's over." A grin came to her face. "It's over, Eddie. You did it."

Edward sat down next to her, clasping both of her hands with his. "I couldn't have done it without you, Kristen." He looked back at Nina and Deirdre where they stood. "Without any of you."

Deirdre arched an eyebrow. "You gettin' soft on us, boss?"

Edward let out a loud laugh. "Oh, Deirdre. Never change."

Nina took a seat on the sofa next to Edward and shot him a mischievous look. "So what about you and Batman?"

Edward felt his face flush a bit. "What about me and Batman?"

"Oh, don't give us that," Nina laughed. "You know, he did go running off to save you."

"I seem to remember you had something to tell me about the two of you at dinner last night," Kristen joined in.

The three women gave Edward an expectant look. Edward huffed. "Well, if you must know," he smiled at the memory. "We kissed."

"I knew it!" Nina shouted, pumping her fist. Kristen simply smiled wider.

"So," Deirdre chimed in. "What next? Are you two gonna keep working together?"

"We'll be talking about it," Edward said, his heart beating just a bit faster at the thought.

Nina snorted. "Is that all you'll be doing?" She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Edward felt his face turn bright red. "NINA!!"

* * *

 

It was almost three when Edward finally made his way to GCPD, accompanied by Kristen. The two of them lingered for a long moment outside of the dull grey building neither had set foot in for five years. Edward hadn't realized that Kristen was holding his hand until he felt her squeeze his tight. "Are you ready for this?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that," he answered. She, even more than he, had more than enough cause to never want to set foot in GCPD again. Nevertheless, she stared up at him with a determined look on her face.

"I'm ready. I'm done allowing Dougherty and Thorne control me."

Edward smiled. "Alright." He took a deep breath, let go of her hand and opened the front entrance door.

At first, no one paid the pair much mind as they made their way into the building. The pair walked up to the reception area, Edward's heart hammering in his chest. "I'm here to see Commissioner Gordon," Edward announced to the painfully familiar receptionist. "He's expecting me."

"Name?"

"Edward Nig-no. Edward Nashton."

The receptionist looked up sharply. "Edward Nashton? Detective Eddie Nashton?"

Edward gave the woman a wave. "Hello, Phyllis. Long time no see."

Immediately, Edward was enveloped in a bear hug by the matronly woman. "Eddie Nashton, as I live and breathe! I knew we'd see you again someday!" Edward pet her affectionately on the shoulder, only to be let go when she caught sight of Kristen beside him and swept her up in a hug as well. "And Kristen too! How have you been, baby girl?"

"I've been great," Kristen smiled.

"Well, look who decided to show his face!"

Edward turned and saw Bullock lumber up to him, closely followed by his partner, Montoya, wasn't it? Edward tipped his hat to the pair of detectives. "Miss me, Harv?"

Bullock huffed, but pat Edward on the back. "That was some good work, Eddie."

"I'll say," Montoya agreed. "Thorne's facing hard time thanks to you!" 

Edward couldn't help the pleased flush that came over his face. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but-"

"Oh don't you start," Bullock interjected, rolling his eyes. "Careful Renee, his head doesn't need to get any bigger."

"Oh, I missed you too," Edward sassed. "Is Gordon here?"

"Yeah, he's back in his office. Follow me." Bullock gestured the group to follow behind him. As they walked past the bullpen, Edward allowed himself to stroll down memory lane for a moment. The interior of GCPD certainly hadn't changed much in five years. The same busy environment, the same chatter. It felt, or perhaps it was just him, that a cloud had been lifted from GCPD. There was almost an electric excitement in the air as detectives and officers alike gossiped over the news. Finally, they had left the bullpen behind and walked down the hall that led to the commissioner's office. "Hey, Commish!" Bullock shouted. "Eddie's here!"

"Come on in!" Gordon's voice sounded from the other side. Bullock opened the door and the group went in. Gordon had been sitting at his desk, but got up with a smile when he saw Edward and Kristen. "I can't tell you just how good it is to see the two of you again."

"Likewise," Edward said, reaching out to shake Gordon's hand. "I've missed working with you, Commissioner."

"None of that, Edward. Please, call me Jim." Gordon's face grew a bit more solemn when he turned to address Kristen. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened five years ago. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could have done something."

Kristen shook her head. "It's alright, Jim. I never blamed you for anything."

Gordon rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if it's any consolation, Dougherty will finally answer for the charge of attempted murder against you. He faced arraignment for that and a whole host of other charges today, actually. His attorney had to answer for him though, on account of his jaw being wired shut."

Edward laughed a bit at the vindictive smile Kristen let out. "Speaking of charges, what about Thorne?"

"That was what I wanted to talk to you about actually. I'm sorry everybody, but we'll need the room." Bullock nodded and he, Montoya and Kristen reluctantly left. When they were alone, Gordon leaned against his desk and addressed Edward. "Thorne's lawyered up, but my contacts told me that the case against him is pretty solid. His secretary and a few of his other lieutenants have begun to turn evidence against him as well."

Edward nodded. The rats were fleeing the sinking ship. Fitting. "What about his foot soldiers?"  

"Most of them are going underground, but a couple are starting trouble. We're going to have a heck of a time going through Thorne's records to figure out just how many people in GCPD he had on his payroll."

"I could lend my assistance with that," Edward said. "That was my area of expertise if you remember."

"I remember," Gordon said fondly. "I appreciate the offer. The federal investigators are going to want to meet with you tomorrow or the day after to fully debrief you, make sure there isn't anything they missed from your initial statement."

"I'll be ready anytime."

"Good. There was one more thing I wanted to mention." Gordon smiled at him again. "I wanted to do this when I first got this job, but I couldn't find you. I'd like to offer you your old position back."

Edward smiled, but shook his head. "Thank you, Jim, really, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I think I've gotten a bit too used to being my own boss."

Gordon shrugged. "I had a feeling you'd say that. Still wanted to offer though." Gordon got up from against the desk and walked toward Edward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Feel free to stop by anytime if you ever need anything, or if you just want to chat. Barbara's missed you too."

Edward nodded. "I will. Thank you again, Jim."

"Anytime."

* * *

 

Edward and Kristen had just left GCPD and were walking down the street to his car when he heard his cell phone ring. He pulled it out and let out a gasp when he saw the number. In all of the excitement of the last few days, he'd forgotten all about her. Gulping, he answered his phone. "Hi, Veronica."

_"Eddie, darling! Did I hear the news right? Did you really just help take down Rupert Thorne? By getting yourself kidnapped of all things?"_

So, the news media was starting to reveal his name and exact role in the caper. So much for a quiet evening at home. He probably wouldn't get to see him again tonight. "It's true, Ronnie."

_"Eddie, you absolutely have to tell me about it! Are you busy tonight?"_

"No-"

 _"Good! Meet me at the Rose Cafe at six! I want to hear all the details! See you tonight, Eddie!"_ Veronica disconnected the call before Edward could get in a word edgewise. He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket with a sigh.

"What are you going to tell Veronica?" Kristen asked. Edward didn't like the bemused expression on her face. He shrugged helplessly.

"How exactly do you let a girl down gently?"

Kristen pretended to ponder this, then shook her head. "Sorry, Eddie, but you're on your own."

Edward pouted. "You are the literal worst, I swear."

* * *

 

"...So that's that," Edward finished. Veronica sat opposite from him at the table, an unreadable expression on her face. At least she hadn't thrown her drink in his face. Edward fidgeted with the folded napkin in his lap before he stumbled on. "I just want you to know, you're a great girl, really, and I never intended to lead you on-"

Veronica stopped him mid-ramble with a held up hand. "I know you didn't, Eddie. In the short time I've known you, you've been nothing but a perfect gentleman." She let out a defeated chuckle. "To tell you the truth, I've suspected since my party that you were-well, you know. I just didn't want to be rude and ask if you weren't comfortable sharing that."

Edward had to let out a small smile. Behind the vapid act, she really was a great woman.

Veronica shook her head. "Me and my bad luck. I don't suppose you have a twin brother who likes girls, do you?"

Edward had to let out a laugh at that. "Sorry Ronnie, but I'm one of a kind."

Veronica threw her head back and laughed as well and all the awkwardness seemed to dissipate. "Don't I just know it! Of course, you know this doesn't mean I'm going to stop calling you up every now and then. You're marvelous company."

"I'd like that, actually." He meant it too. Veronica was fun. Now that she knew where they stood, she may even become better company.

"Well, good. Now," Veronica leaned forward, looking very much like one of the gossipy schoolgirls Edward used to know. "Who is he?"

"Who?"

"Being coy doesn't suit you, Eddie," Veronica scolded. "Batman, of course! Just who is the man you're so obviously in love with?"

Edward smiled again. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

* * *

 

_"...Of course, I can't take full credit for Thorne's downfall. The GCPD played more than a small part. Not to mention Batman. He was of great assistance to me as well. I look forward to working with him again if he'd like."_

_"That was Edward Nigma, the private investigator who is now known to have been at the center of Thorne's arrest, commenting on his role in the case. Mr. Nigma, who in the past year has made quite a name for himself as a private investigator for the upper class of Gotham, is also now known to have been a GCPD detective as well, by the name of Edward Nashton. He spoke at length to investigators about how long he apparently has worked behind the scenes investigating Thorne as well. However, he has not come forward with every detail, saying that a private investigator has to keep some secrets..."_

From his spot reclining on the sofa, Dick let out a small laugh at the broadcast. "'Keep some secrets.' That sounds like Eddie," he said.

"I must admit," Alfred commented. "He certainly is coming across as much more humble in this latest round of interviews."

Dick shot Bruce a wry look. "Your influence I bet."

Bruce hadn't actually spoken to Edward since he'd dropped him back off at his apartment two nights ago. Between flushing out Thorne's remaining forces and making sure the federal investigators had every scrap of evidence they needed to put Thorne away for good, he hadn't had the time. He'd rectify that tonight. "I'm heading out now. I'll be back by morning."

Alfred nodded. "Yes. Best not to keep your young man waiting any longer."

Bruce smiled a bit at that. His young man. He liked the sound of that. "Good night, Alfred. Dick, let me know if anything comes up."

Dick waved him off. "Have fun! Tell Eddie we can't wait to see him again!"

* * *

 

It had just turned 9 when Bruce found himself once again on Edward's fire escape. He looked through the window to see Edward waiting for him, dressed casually, his face breaking out into a smile when they made eye contact. Bruce had barely opened the window when Edward had dashed up to him.

"Well, there you are!" he chided. "I was about to make good and turn on the Batsignal to get you to come!"

"Were you now?" Bruce asked wryly. Now that he was in close proximity to him, Bruce noticed something different about him. His hair, usually slicked back, was hanging loose and free now, much like in the GCPD profile picture Bruce had found. "This is new."

"Well, the girls and I talked, and we decided it wouldn't hurt to go back to my old look a bit. Do you like it?"

Bruce ran his fingers through the auburn hair. "It suits you."

Edward looked pleased with this. "I take it you saw my interview with Summer Gleeson?"

"I did. Does Gordon know you've been talking to the media?"

"He does. He approved in fact. And you know I couldn't keep them away forever." Edward folded his arms. "Somehow though, I don't think that's what you came to talk to me about."

"No, it wasn't," Bruce admitted. "We still need to have that talk about our partnership. If you still want one."

"If I still want one?" Edward scoffed. "Well first off, yes. No ifs about it. I may have gotten into this to take down Thorne, but there are plenty of other challenges out there for me to sink my teeth into. It would be a waste of my intellect otherwise." Edward gently poked the front of Bruce's suit. "However, there are some conditions."

"What would those be?"

Edward held up a finger. "First of all, no more pushing me away. If you have some concern, I want you to talk to me about it. Second, I'd like to bring the girls into the loop. Not about everything, of course, but if you have Robin, I'd like my girls."

"Done on both counts," Bruce said. "But I have a condition too: no more unnecessary risks. I will always save you, but that doesn't mean I want you to throw yourself into danger."

Edward rolled his eyes a bit. "Fine. Believe me, the girls let me have it the last few days."

"Good." Bruce went to his belt and pulled a small earpiece out of a left compartment. "Here," he said, putting it into Edward's hand. "This is a communicator that's at the Batcave's radio frequency. That way, you'll be able to communicate with me and Robin. I also have an idea for what I'd like you to do on the team. I'd like you to use your intelligence network to be eyes and ears for me and Robin. You have access to a lot of information that we don't, and it helped us immensely."

"Be an Oracle of sorts for you?" Edward quipped. "Maybe that can be my code name. No, Sphinx would be better. Maybe Enigma. Actually, I've always been partial to the Riddler. No, that sounds more like a supervillain name. Oh, well, I'll figure it out." Edward put the communicator on his right ear then looked up at Bruce expectantly. "That's the professional talk. What about personal? What do you want that partnership to look like?"

Edward's tone was its usual brassy confidence, but Bruce could detect the glimmer of uncertainty in his words. He gently lifted Edward's chin up with one hand and the other rested on his shoulder. "You know how I feel about you," he said. "That hasn't changed. If anything, it's become stronger." Edward's eyes softened and Bruce leaned down to kiss him again like he'd wanted for the past three nights now. Edward stopped him though, gently but firmly pushing the hand that was on his chin down. Bruce opened his eyes and saw Edward looked nervous. "What's wrong?"

Edward bit his lower lip. "That night when you told me you'd met Kristen," he said. "You said that the only way this partnership could work is if we were completely honest with each other. Did you mean that?"

Bruce frowned. "Of course I did."

Edward nodded, then took a deep breath. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you...Bruce."

Bruce felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. This certainly hadn't been what he was expecting. Then he relaxed a bit. It was bound to come up sooner or later. "How long have you-"

"Known for certain? A few seconds," Edward joked. "I've suspected since that party at your house. How interested you were in me, the wording you used. It made sense you know. Batman requires resources and who has more in Gotham City then Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce took a step back, folding his own arms. "That's not definitive proof."

"No, which is why I was a bit skeptical. Dick was what clinched it though. A broken leg, around the same time that Robin was injured? Not to mention that he's the right age and physical type for Robin? One coincidence could be explained away, two, however? Starts to look like a pattern. I am a detective, you know."

Bruce shook his head, then he hesitated. "So then, all the time you were working with Thorne-"

Edward nodded. "I was ready to die before I ever said a word to him." Then he laughed a bit. "How do you like that? The greatest detective work I've ever done, and I can never tell anyone about it!"

Bruce chuckled then. "You really are in love with me."

Edward's face flushed. "You know it." Then he placed his hands on his hips. "So then? Can I see you without that cowl?"

Bruce paused, then took off the cowl in one fluid motion, setting it on Edward's desk. He watched Edward's eyes widen a bit, then soften in pleasure. "I really am the luckiest man in the world," he breathed. He crooked his finger, beckoning Bruce to him. "I think I'm ready for that kiss now."

Bruce smiled, then stepped forward, meeting Edward halfway. He took him in his arms and claimed his mouth in a kiss. It felt just as right to him then as it did that night on the fire escape. He felt Edward's hands reach up to run through his hair and he bit down gently on Edward's lower lip, making the other man moan. Bruce stepped forward, pressing Edward against his desk and Edward pulled him even closer to him, his hands going from his hair to his shoulders. They broke for breath, and Edward looked up, his eyes glassy. God, Bruce thought, but he may be the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Edward's mouth fell open, about to say something, when Dick's voice. _"Hey! Batman!"_

Bruce suppressed a groan, then pressed a button on his communicator. "Yes, Robin?"

_"Joker just broke out of Arkham Asylum! He hijacked an ice cream truck and is running people off the road in the North Side!"_

Bruce reached down to the desk to grab his cowl. "I'm on my way." He put the cowl back on then looked at Edward apologetically. "I'll be back."

"I know," Edward said. "You'll just have to take me out to dinner tomorrow night. Or invite me over. I'm not choosy."

Bruce smiled. "Done."

Edward hopped off the desk. "I'll start calling my sources in the North Side." He pressed the talk button on his own communicator. "Hi, Dick!"

 _"Whoa!"_ Dick shouted. _"You told him-"_

"He already knew," Bruce explained.

_"Figures. Welcome to the team, Eddie!"_

"Glad to be here," Edward said. He went up to Bruce and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Not that I'm worried, but be careful."

Bruce leaned down and the pair exchanged a quick kiss. " I will be. I'll see you soon." Then Bruce turned around, opened the window and climbed out to the fire escape. After one last look at his partner, he pulled out his grappling hook, aimed at the neighboring building and fired. He flew off into the night sky, into a new Gotham, into a new life.

A better one, now that Edward was in it.

 

_The End_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you to everyone who read, left a kudo or a comment. This was some of the most fun I've ever had as a writer, and I hope it was as fun for you to read. Until next time!


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